


Dreams of Monsters and Men

by WitchesNight



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dreamwalking, Laufey Isn't Loki's Dad, M/M, Magic, No Incest, Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Thor 1 AU, loki's a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4388864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchesNight/pseuds/WitchesNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU-Loki and Laufey are not related)</p><p>     Loki was born with the ability to Dreamwalk. He's able to slip into the dreams of anyone anywhere in the Nine Realms and beyond. One night he stumbles into the cold dreams of Laufey, King of the Frost Giants. Loki's wary as Asgard and Jotunheim are close to war, but he can't seem to stay away from peering into Laufey's dreams. Soon he and Laufey begin a relationship within the realm of their minds, but with Laufey unaware of Loki's identity and Loki terrified of Thor's war mongering actions, can it survive the coming storm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

     

     When Loki fell asleep, his mind went dark.

     He was used that. Rare was the night that Loki Odinson dreamt. No, he had not done that since he was a child, barely able to keep up with his roady older brother. Loki was grown now. Taller, older, stronger. Still he tried to keep up with his rash yet powerful older sibling. Loki could not be as physical as Thor was, he had not the brawn. So he turned to other, more arcane means. Magic. Loki grew skilled in his studies, and it was in one of his books that he discovered dreamwalking.

     Dreamwalking. The power to walk unhindered into the slumbering minds of others. It was a rare gift and rarely discovered. Loki was surprised to realize that his childhood dreams were not his own. They were other’s. He had been sliding in and out of the dreams of those around him long before he could put a name to it. Loki delighted in seeing what lay on the minds of others. He was no mind reader, but dreamwalking was better. For it was in dreams that people revealed their true selves, their darkest desires and hopes. He saw the thirst for glory in Thor’s dreams, the troubled sleep of the guards, the lust in Fandral's and the tragic history of Hogun’s.

    Yes, Loki smiled to himself. Willing himself a body inside of his mind, he reached out to brush the darkness away. It was cold, biting at his bare hands. Shaking his head, Loki pushed it all away. This was his mind. He was in control here. Taking a breathe, Loki imagined a crack in the floor. A small, thin line appeared. Concentrating, Loki willed the crack bigger. Bigger! A slow, almost silent rumble echoed through the darkness. The crack grew large enough for Loki to slip into. Smiling to himself, Loki reached his out into it. This was the only way he knew how to escape his own mind and venture into someone else’s. Some days, he if had the energy, he could dream himself into a specific mind. Other times he couldn’t get out of someone’s dreams. That was the most annoying. Once Loki had only been able to see Fandral’s dreams. He shuddered, his hand trembling in the air. It was orgy after ogry and Loki had seen more of Fandral than he ever had wanted.

      His hand ventured into the crack. Loki paused, holding it there. This dream felt different from the ones he had gone into before. This was….cold. He shook his head. That wasn’t the right word, but yet it was all he had for it. Thor’s mind, his dreams, were warm and intoxicating whatever he might be dreaming of. Loki knew Thor had a happy mind and thus his mind felt secure, contained, almost predictable. Loki’s hand throbbed with a freezing electricity in the air. It made him shiver with excitement.

_I wonder who’s mind I am daring to enter?_

     Without a second thought, Loki slipped through the crack separating his mind from the other’s dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  


      Laufey’s mind was cold.

      It was always cold. Some would guess that it was because of his Jotun blood. Would it not make sense that a Frost Giant would dream of ice and snow? Laufey was wiser. Laufey knew better. His dreams were cold because they held no joy for him. Sleep held no joy for him. It was needed activity he knew, but as King he had so much to do. His world was dying. The War had been a harsh one and the loss of the Casket had all but brought Jotunheim to its knees.

     Laufey was King.

     It was his responsibility to rebuild, to tend to, to defend. Jotunheim was his and by the gods would he pull it from the abyss. Laufey snarled in his sleep, clawed hands restlessly moving as he peered into his dreams. He stood on the edge of a cliff. Snow flitted down from the stormy skies, swirling down onto the ice and into the yawning blackness over the edge of the frozen rock. So he was dreaming of Jotunheim. Perhaps no particular place, but still-

     Laufey stopped. He knew this place. Eyes narrowing, he turned to look for the small house he knew was there. A small hut (for giants) made of wood and stone lay nestled against the side of the mountain. Cows huddled together in a small pen beside it. Laufey saw lights coming from the hut. With a heavy heart he went inside.

     He knew what was in there. He should have stopped himself. He knew all that was there was pain, dark stabbing wounds in his chest. But this was but a dream. Laufey did not have to be strong in his own mind. So he went inside. Two Frost giants lay on the bed in the corner. The flames of the fire flickered eerily against their blue skin. They did not notice him. Laufey knew they wouldn’t. He had had this dream before. The couple stared at a small bundle in the woman’s arms. Laufey could not stop himself. He walked over to the bed and pulled the blankets aside.

_It’s you._

     His chest throbbed with pain. The tiny baby stared up at him with huge eyes. Heart keening, Laufey smiled at the small thing. It was tiny for a human baby much less a giant’s. It was a runt. Still, Laufey could not help but reach out for it. The baby gurgled quietly, brushing it’s tiny, tiny fingers against Laufey’s large ones.

     Little one, Laufey thought. Little one, you were to be my bride.

     Steeling himself, Laufey briskly turned and stalked out of the house. He didn’t give the younger version of himself wondering below a second glance. He knew what was about to happen. The couple would despise the runt of a child. They would fling him into the cold to die. Laufey would find him and see the small, black mark on his back.

     That babe had been Laufey’s soulmate.

     That babe who had died when Odin stormed Jotunheim.

      Laufey snarled. I am King and I could not even save him.

     “Well then,” a low, smooth voice echoed across the plain. “Who would you be?”

     That was not normal. Laufey turned, wary of this new development. He blinked in surprise, hands raised to defend himself.

      “What is an Asgardian doing here?” he demanded, advancing on the small figure. The dark haired man did naught but smile. He raised his hands to show he had no weapons. It did nothing to lower Laufey’s guard.

       “Merely looking,” the man said, almost gently. Some would believe it to be caring, but Laufey was no fool. The words held a hint of poison in them. This man, however unassuming he looked, was dangerous. Laufey struggled to place him. Where had he meet this man? Surely he had once. Otherwise how would he come to be in Laufey’s dream?

      “Where have I met you?” Laufey demanded. This was his dream after all. He might as well ask.  

       “Nowhere,” the man replied, eyes sweeping over the freezing mountains. He stopped to look curiously at the hut. Laufey did not look. He knew well that it was time for the Father to take his mate outside to die. It offended him that this figment of his mind would dare to look upon such a precious memory. “Someone you know?” the man asked, gaze flickering back to Laufey.

      “No,” Laufey lied. He stepped forward threateningly. This dream was over as far as he was concerned. The man did not look worried about the threat of being being ripped in half by Laufey. An old enemy then? A sorceror? By the gods, why did Laufey not recall him? “I would know your name,” he said, voice low and commanding.

       “First I would have yours,” the stranger countered. “Tell me yours and I will tell you mine.”

       A challenge. Laufey lowered his hands, intrigued. Perhaps his mind was striving to divert himself from the memories of his long dead soulmate. We would be married by now….Laufey shrugged off his bitter thoughts. He would accept this challenge then.

       “Agreed,” he growled, studying the man once more. The stranger bowed his head. He was slim, wearing green and black tunics, hands soft by the looks of him. Laufey clicked his claws together thoughtfully. This was a man of books not war. If he was Asgardian as his robes told, he was most likely a wizard or a healer. Laufey gazed into the man’s darkened eyes. They were sharp and piercing. Wizard, he decided.

        “I am called many names,” Laufey said. “You might call me Nál.”

         The man bowed his head. “Nál? Nál of Jotunheim?”

          Laufey mockingly nodded. He did not know why he told this man his true name. Nál, the one his mother used to call him before he became king and took on the name of Laufey. He shook his head. His mind was strange tonight indeed. He wondered if it was the wine he had drunk that night. “And you? What is the name of the stranger that walks through my dreams as if he is the ruler of it?”

           “I am called many names,” the man said, voice sweet but mocking. “Luka is but one of them. If you must give me a name, Nál, call me that.”

          He supposed it did not matter. Laufey very much doubted that was this man’s true name. Or that this man existed at all. After all, it was Laufey’s dream. Who would dare to enter the dreams of the King of Jotunheim?

            The wind howled. Laufey drug his eyes away from Luka. Below him he saw a much younger king scoop up the tiny bundle left on the rock. He watched as he unwrapped the bundle to find the mark of his soulmate on the back of the babe. Laufey sighed. Luka had proved distracting indeed. Maybe he would call upon him again when his mind strayed to painful memories.

          “Luka,” he rumbled. The man peered up curiously. “You’ve proven...interesting.”

           The world around them began to bleed to grey and black. Laufey knew it was a sign of his awaking. It was almost dawn. The man began to walk towards the blackness that was quickly coming. Laufey assumed it was because he had no further use of him. Luka would remain in the shadows until Laufey’s dreams called him once more. All for the best.

         “Farewell Nál,” Luka called out. “Maybe we shall meet again. It is rare for me to find the mind of a Frost Giant!”

          And then Luka was gone, vanishing into the air from whence he came.

         Laufey’s eyes slid open. He lay on his own bed in the Royal Chambers. Glancing out the window he saw it the sun just beginning to rise. Laufey groaned, rubbing his face wearily. “Luka,” he muttered. “From what pit of my memory did I pull you from?” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

           In Asgard, Loki's eyes opened slowly. Laughing quietly to himself, he stood up to prepare himself for the day. 

            _This night,_ he thought as he pulled on his clothes.  _Proved interesting. We shall meet in your dreams again Nal....._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki speaks to Thor of war and then to Laufey of war and kings.

 

 

      

    “Loki!” Thor’s thunderous voice echoed through the library. “Loki where are you? I have no time for games!”

     Loki rolled his eyes. Thor had no time for anything these days. Odin was preparing for his sleep and Thor was next in line for the throne. He had a coronation to prepare for, councils and lords to win over, women to flirt with, and traditions and laws to study. No, Thor did not have time for games. He’s far too busy puffing up his ego, Loki thought darkly. He returned to his book. Thor would either give up finding him or would eventually see him sitting by the window behind a shelf. Loki hoped Thor would give up. He was thinking of his encounter with Nál. A delicious shiver ran up the back of Loki’s spin at the thought. Imagine, the Prince of Asgard standing in the dreams of a Jotun. Father would have a fit.

     Loki could not tell which thought enthralled him the most. Odin, although never saying such, loathed the Jotun. They were monsters apparently. Vicious beings of ice and shadow, Jotuns were there reason for a war that had raged centuries, ending the day of Loki’s birth. Monsters.

     What about dream walking into one of their minds was not appealing?

     “Found you.”

      Loki’s book was ripped out of his hands. Loki gave a small huff of annoyance as he glared up at his large brother. “What is it Thor?”

      Thor scowled, holding Loki’s up out of his reach. “Did you not hear me calling brother?” he demanded. “I am in need of your counsel.”

       Loki leaned back against the sill of the window. Thor might have all the strength, but he had not the intelligence. He had most likely done something foolish and incurred the wrath of someone. As he had not gone to Odin, it must be rather embarrassing. It piqued his interest.

       “On what my dear brother?” Loki asked, sharp eyes watching the doors for Sif and the Warrior Three to arrive. These days Thor and his friends could hardly be separated. Not by duties, Odin, Frigga….or Loki. The time for childish brotherhood games has long since passed….

       “There are rumors being whispered around the palace,” Thor said, bluntly stating his request. Loki sighed and motioned for him to sit. Thor did not understand subtlety at all.

        “There are always rumors going around Thor,” Loki said dryly. He paused, weighing what he would say next. “But it is not often that you wish to speak to me on them. What is being said?”

         Thor let out an aggravated huff. His stormy blue eyes swept over the Library as if it offended him somehow. “They speak of Jotunheim.”

          “Jotunheim?” Loki asked, forcing his tone to be casual, almost mocking. “I know the court fears and loathe the giants but it is rare such rumors reach your ears. What say they of Jotunheim?”

        “They speak of spies and of coming war.”

         Loki’s blood ran cold. There is no way anyone could know...not even the great Heimdall can see into the dreams of others….He shuddered. This was about something else. Forcing a small grin onto his face, he gestured for Thor to continue. The soon to be King continued, a grim look on his usually smiling face.

       “Father does not wish of me to speak of it….but the rumors are worrisome brother. What make you of tales of returning to war?”

        “I know little,” Loki grudgingly admitted. “Save that Father fears war might return. The Giants are angry and Asgard suspicious. It may be something to fear, or something that will never occur. But a war would devastate us….” Loki took a breath to steady himself. Thor only came to Loki when he needed to be told that everything would be fine. Strange, Loki whispered to himself. That the golden child seeks the comfort of his brother and not the Allfather.

        “And how should a king react to such a threat?” Thor asked. Loki glanced up to check that Thor was earnest. His face held no lie. Loki believed those earnest, asking eyes. Thor was too stupid to hide anything behind his words. He must genuinely wish for Loki to tell him how to please their father. Even stranger as it seems all Loki does is disappoint.

      “Take care of his people?” Loki ventured. “A king must look after his people above all else. Watch the Jotun, be aware of our relations with them and for goodness sake don’t do something rash.”

      It pleased Thor. A bright smile once again flashed across his handsome face. He reached out with his large hands to enthusiastically squeeze Loki’s shoulders. “Sound advice little brother,” he laughed. Loki nodded, relieved that Thor was leaving. His relief was ill founded. Thor sat down beside him, idly tossing Loki’s book aside.

       “Father has set the coronation date,” Thor mused, voice laced with pride. Loki nodded curtly. He had guessed as much. Odin was worried about his coming sleep. He needed a strong heir to hold the throne and watch over the Nine Realms. If the rumors were true, then Thor might have to be ready to negotiate peace.

      Peace was not Thor’s strong suit.

      “What of it?” Loki asked snidely. He picked up a random book from his side and pointedly began to ignore his brother.

      “I-” Thor’s tone was softer now, almost wistful. Loki glanced at him sharply.

      “What is it Thor?”

      “Brother I would-”

       The doors to the usually peaceful library burst open. Loki gave a low growl of annoyance. The Warrior Three and Sif stalked into the room. He swore the atmosphere instantly changed from relatively calm to reeking of testosterone and an overwhelming sense of pride and entitlement. Thor hastily stood up to go to his friends. He gave Loki an apologetic glance that Loki waved aside.

       It wasn’t like he wanted to talk to Thor anyway.

       “You will come with us to the training grounds?” Thor asked hopefully. Loki wished to claw his eyes out to avoid staring into his brother’s hopeful face. He sighed, placing aside his book. Warrior Three annoyed or not, who was he to deny his soon to be king anything?

       Of course he regretted it later.

       Loki always did.

        

      

        

        

  
  


   Laufey’s day as King had been a long and hard one.

   His day had begun with two of his Council members screaming for each other’s blood. Something about one of their daughters and a “perverted old Jotun”. Laufey did not take well to it. He forced the father to show him his daughter’s soulmark. He sighed, glad to be alone in his quarters for the night. The mark had been small, distinct. She had born the swirling patterns of a small flower. The exact same pattern found on his Council Member’s back. Laufey had no more interest in the matter. They, despite a several hundred year age gap, were soul mates. The father had nothing to say to that. Soul mates were sacred on Jotunheim.

     So imagine the pain of never knowing yours….Laufey thought wistfully. Every Jotun was born with a soul mark. A birthmark of black that took on endless forms and sizes. They were on the back and every Jotun knew that somewhere there was another being in the Nine Realms that had the exact same mark on their back. It was rare though, that they found their soulmate. Jotunheim was harsh and its people solitary and violent. It was, Laufey brooded as he climbed into his bed, a miracle to find one’s soulmate.

        Sacred. He mused. Soulmates are considered sacred, protected by the gods themselves. What kind of monster would kill one? What kind of monster would kill a child?

        The Allfather would. The Allfather did. Laufey’s hands tightened in anger. How dare he? Odin had dared to kill the soulmate of a king in the heart of the Temple itself. Blasphemy. Laufey growled viciously, settling himself under the thick furs of his bed. His anger had burned bright very well over nine hundred years now. It could wait a while longer. Laufey closed his eyes and wondered if he was to dream of Luka.

  
  


   

  
  
  


     

 

          Loki hated training with a passion usually reserved for his studies.

          Thor was a brute. Sif was a brute. The Warrior Three were brutes. Loki hissed in pain as he laid himself down on his bed. He hated them all. Honestly who thought throwing someone through a wooden wall was a good idea? He wasn’t a warrior. He relied on his magic to keep him alive in Thor’s messes. But no. Thor hadn’t remembered that Loki wasn’t built like giant. He’d thrown him over his shoulder as he were nothing.

         And the others had laughed.

         “Next time brother,” Loki snarled as he thrashed around his bed to find a position that didn’t hurt his throbbing back and legs. “I’ll tell you the best way to avoid a war is to invade Jotunheim. You’d do it too. Fool.”

        The pain in his back was quite extricating, but Loki was exhausted. He wondered if he’d dream walk tonight. When his eyes slide shut and his mind flew to the darkness of his own mind, he had his answer. Loki willed the crack open once more. Reaching one hand inside the shadows, he cracked a smile.

        He felt snow falling.

  
  
  
  
  


     Laufey knew this memory well. He had dreamt of it often enough over his long, long life. He shuddered, wondering if all creatures’ dreams were haunting memories or if was merely him. Laufey was grateful that this memory was not as harsh as some. He watched this memory in content silence.

      Never mind his heart seemed to bleed.

      “Little one,” the dream version of himself whispered. “You’re going to be Queen one day.” He shifted the precious bundle of furs closer to his chest. He smiled down at the babe with such awe and love. Laufey looked away. Once, he had claimed he would never love. That he never could love…..and he had been right. He was a warrior king and had taken the path of violence. Laufey still was a warrior. He was still prone to violence (as were all Jotuns) and he still felt the lust for blood rise in him every time the horns sounded.

     The only difference was that he was a older now, wiser. Laufey now knew what loss was and it was a lesson he bore well.

       “You dream of children?”

       Laufey turned, relieved to see Luka standing there. Invention of his own mind or no, Luka would help him turn away from this bittersweet dream.

       “Of a certain one,” Laufey admitted. He stalked away from the two figures and towards the cliffs. Luka followed behind him quietly. “But I doubt you come to me now to speak of children.”

      Luka laughed, an odd, bitter sound. He nodded though, joining Laufey by the side of the staggeringly high cliff. “I do not,” he agreed. “I came here for other reasons.”

        He thought as much. Why would Laufey summon him if he was not there to distract? Laufey played along. “What reasons would they be?” he asked, voice low.

        Luka did not reply right away. Instead, the small dark haired man stared out to the frozen mountains of Jotun. He stood still, quiet. Laufey watched him in silence. The Wizard looked almost...pensive tonight. He wondered why.

        “Did you come here to see the might of Jotunheim?” Laufey finally asked. “Did you hear tales of the monsters of ice and decided to come and judge for yourself?” He swept his arm out, gesturing the brutal beauty of his kingdom. “Does it measure up to the stories?”

        Luka nodded slowly, carefully, as if he were measuring his own reaction. His gaze flicked to Laufey. Laufey stared into the man’s dark eyes and wondered what secrets lay behind them. They were oddly sharp, piercing in ways that Laufey had not seen before. He both wanted to see what lay behind them and ripping them from the Asgardian ’s skull.

        “No,” Luka whispered. “The stories do not measure up to the might Jotunheim. The stories speak only of war and of monsters.” He glanced over to the dream Laufey cradling his soul mate to his chest. “They speak not of babes and small huts.” Luka seemed to tremble as he gazed upon them. “So tell me Nál, what does Jotunheim say of Asgard? Do they wish war? Vengeance on Odin? To reclaim the Casket? Tell me Nál of Jotun.”

      Laufey remained silent. He pondered the question. It was one that he often thought over and one his Council had endlessly fought over. Do we wish war? Laufey had avoided answering it for centuries. He wished for revenge. He wanted it more than anything else, but damn if he could not say it aloud with fearing Odin’s wrath.

       This was his mind though.

        Could he not answer truthfully?

       “Yes…..” he hissed, red eyes glowing vividly in the darkness. “We wish for war, for Asgardian blood to run and for Odin to fall! Does Asgard not wish the same? To destroy Jotunheim once and for all?”

        Luka shrugged as if he did not care. He sat down in the snow as if Laufey had declared nothing. “Perhaps some,” he said without malice. “But not I. I do not care for war, it is brutal.”

         That was not what Laufey expected. He looked curiously at Luka. Why one earth would his mind say such a thing? He humored the much smaller man though. Sitting cross legged in the snow beside him, Laufey watched the puzzling man.

         “I-yes,” he said. “War is brutal and it costs much.”

        Too much sometimes.

         Luka nodded, almost smugly. He rubbed his hands together as if cold. Laufey wondered if it was cold. As a Frost Giant cold was a concept he was only vaguely aware of.

        “Odin knows this,” Luka said sharply, voice rising as the word Odin passed his plump lips. Laufey found himself staring at them. They were almost as fascinating as his eyes. Laufey tore his eyes away from them to listen to Luka.

         “Odin knows nothing,” Laufey spat. “The Allfather is as brutal as they come. A warrior and a madman. He has no mercy.”

         “Odin is King,” Luka hissed. “Do you have no respect for kings?”

        Laufey laughed. It rang out through the empty wasteland like a bell. “Respect kings?” he asked. “No, no I suppose I do not. What use are kings and war?”

        He had said it mockingly, almost as a way to bait Luka into anger. Laufey knew not why, but he wanted to see this curious stranger angry. Or sad, or fearful or anything other than perfectly calm and in control. However Luka seemed to take this seriously.

        “I know not,” he whispered, voice raw. “What use are kings and war?”

        Laufey had no answer for him.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Honestly I was not expecting anyone to be interested in this work, but it seems that some of you are :) As I actually adore Loki/Laufey, I've decided to continue this story as a multi-chaptered work. Thank you all for commenting and leaving those wonderful kudos ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laufey's Council speaks of war, Loki is challenged by an irate Laufey, and Laufey realizes he might recognize Luka.

 

 

   

      Luka.

_Who are you?_

     Luka….

_Surely I did not dream you up._

    Laufey’s eyes slid open. His council was caught up in yet another endless debate centering around Asgard. Some cried for war, others patience. Laufey’s gaze flickered to the ceiling. He prayed to the gods for patience. If they did not grant him that, he was going to rip his council’s throats out. Jotunheim was a violent world. It had happened before.

      However, he would have to appoint a new council then. That would be chaotic. Laufey sighed, glaring at his advisor who shot him a concerned glance. The giant hastily turned away. Laufey, despite growing older, still had a volatile temper. This had been shown time and time again.  _Cross the King,_ the Jotuns whispered.  _And he'll gut you and string up your innards._

      “But what of the Casket?” Baugi. “As long as Odin has the Casket we are nothing.”

     “We don’t need the Casket to be great!” Another snarled. “Odin’s forces are ever creeping upon our borders. Would you have us wait until they’re on our doorstep?”

      “Odin has said that he wishes for peace,” an older Jotun, Heidrek called out. “Why should we doubt him now? Even without the Casket we are strong. A war between us would devastate us again.”

      “Some prices must be paid.”

     “Much was lost last time. A great blow was dealt and the kingdom nearly fell. Would you invite heartache on our king once more?”

      That hit too close to the mark.

      Laufey’s heart seemed to stop. Clenching his fists, he decided to end this meeting. Now.  

     “Silence!” Laufey stood up from his throne. His council fell silent immediately. Laufey’s piercing red eyes swept over them. Stalking to the center of the room, Laufey cowed them. . “Asgard will wait,” he snarled. “As it has waited for centuries. We will discuss this later. As for now, this council is over.”

      His council fell silent. Heidrek looked as if he wanted to challenge Laufey's order. Wisely, he bit his tongue.  _Good,_ Laufey thought.  _I would have cut it out._

      He left without another word.

      If war came, Laufey would be sure that it was Odin’s heart that was clawed out this time.

      

  
  
  
  


     When night fell, Laufey’s dreams came once more.

      As soon as he slipped into the realm of dreams he realized something was different this time. Usually his dreams were of the war, of his lost soulmate or the day he killed his father for the throne. All haunting things, in their own fashion. Not tonight though. Tonight, he stood on Midgard. The ocean lay before him, with cliffs of brown and green soaring into the air. Laufey watched passively at the waves lapping at the rocks below in the fading light. Breathtaking, some would say.

    “An interesting place for a Jotun to dream about.”

     Laufey turned to see Luka sitting on the grass. The Asgardian twined the green blades between his fingers. A childish act, but one that captivated Laufey’s attention. He stared at the man’s pale, slender fingers. A tight feeling seized his heart. Laufey had never noticed fingers before. Hands, yes. Hands that could hide weapons, hands that could hurt or reach out to shatter things. But fingers? This man did nothing but play with grass and suddenly Laufey’s stomach was lurching.

      Weakness, surely….but was is only dream.

     “I have been here before,” Laufey finally responded, old memories stirring. “Many, many years ago.”

     “A Jotun on Midgard?” Luka asked. “It must have been centuries ago.” He paused, piercing eyes stopping to evaluate Laufey. “I did not think you were that old.”

       Laufey laughed. It was rough and raw, a sound that startled both of them. Laufey had not laughed like that in years. He shook his head, moving to sit beside Luka. The man resumed playing with the grass. “I am far older than you would think,” Laufey said. “Far, far older.” He waved his hand towards the ocean. “It was here the war truly began. Jotunheim was expanding their borders and found this realm an easy prey. Humans are weak and the cold conquered them easily. They fell.”

        He saw it all replaying in his mind’s eye. He had been confident in himself. In his army and in the Casket. The humans had fallen so easily. Then Asgard had come to their aid. He shuddered. After that, it had been a bitter war. One that ended with a shattered Jotunheim and a broken king.

        Laufey had worked hard to rebuild both. Jotunheim now prospered as well as it could without its Casket. Laufey himself grew as cold as the ice that surrounded him. He had lost his soulmate and by all rights he should have lost his mind.

       Sometimes he wondered if he had.

       “And then the Allfather came,” Luka whispered, picking up the story where Laufey had fallen silent. “And Nál of Jotunheim returned home.”

        Laufey grunted an acknowledgment. “I did,” he said. He toyed with the grass, trying to see what the point of it was. It felt alien to touch it. Jotun was barren. A literal wasteland of ice and rock. Plants did not grow there and he had yet to see the use for most of them. “I lost much in that war. Too much some would say.”

        Luka seemed to notice the bitter edge to his voice. “And still you would have war?” he asked softly.

        A short burst of rage seared through Laufey’s heart. An image of an empty temple appeared. It mocked him. Odin mocked him. He trembled, face twisting into a snarl. He turned to Luka. “I would have war,” he spat. “If only to make the Allfather pay for his crimes.”

     Luka seemed unimpressed by his rage. He gazed out into the sea as if Laufey were nothing. Maybe Laufey was nothing to this illusion. The thought made him angry. Laufey gripped the slim shoulder, forcing Luka to turn and look at him. Laufey glared at him. “Why do you haunt my dreams?” he demanded. “I have no memory of you. There is no rhythm nor reason why I continue to see you night after night. You toy with me, speaking of wars and of the past.” He shook Luka, perhaps trying to see if the man would vanish. “Why? Why do you come?”

      Luka pulled away. Laufey was stronger than he, bigger. If he had truly wanted to, he could easily hold on to him. Push him on his knees or back. Perhaps tower over him and press him into the ground. Laufey tore away from those thoughts. He knew not where they came from. Luka glared at him, rage to match Laufey’s own simmering in his eyes. Laufey tried not to let it stop him. He stepped forward.

       “Is this retribution?” Laufey asked. His hands shook in rage. His tone growing louder and louder until he was almost screaming. “Is this punishment? A test? Am I to discover your dark purpose? I grow tired of this games Sorceror. What are you?”

        Luka said nothing. He shrugged, but the life had seemed to seep out of him. He looked tired. So very, very tired. Laufey stared at him. He seemed so familiar .Laufey had seen him before. He was sure. But where? Laufey was missing something horribly important. Something clawing at the edges of his mind. It was a wild, dark thing desperately trying to get out.

       “Nál,” Luka said softly. “I’m here because I’m trying to understand.”

        He sighed, as if Laufey had disappointed him. Ridiculous, Laufey told himself, that a king should feel such guilt over a dream.

       _Is this only a dream?_

        Luka vanished, leaving Laufey to ponder his words.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


        It was only later that Laufey had realized how Luka’s eyes reminded him of his soulmate. The realization came to him as he signed papers in his chambers. Such a trivial task. Laufey dropped his quill, suddenly short of breathe. His assistant looked up from his place in the corner.

       “Your Highness?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

        Laufey barely heard him. _Those eyes, I’ve seen them_ ….His chest tightened. His dreams had played a horrible trick on him. A cruel trick. Sucking in a sharp, almost painful breathe, Laufey curled his hands until his claws cut into his skin. His dreams had always been of his soul mate. How could they not be? Laufey had found him. It had been a miracle. A mark of the Norn’s favor perhaps. Soul mates were almost never found, and had Laufey been a few short minutes earlier or later, his soulmate would have died. Left out by heartless parents and Laufey would never have known. Never would have cared.

       But he found him. That tiny, precious, precious bundle. Laufey had picked him up and stared at it. He didn’t even have to look at the baby’s back to know who it was. He was Laufey’s. Laufey’s to hold. To love, to care for, to cherish and keep. The cuts on Laufey’s hands grew deeper as he clawed at himself.

     He had to live with the fact he had left him die by Odin’s hands.

     He had dreamed of it for centuries. Over and over again until it all felt numb.

     Now his mind had found a new way to haunt him.

      _This_ , the voices seemed to whisper, cutting Laufey to the bone. _This is who you could have had. Luka, your tiny mate. See how handsome and wonderfully cruel he is?_

     _No, no, no._ Laufey told himself. Anything but this. Anything but dreaming of the mate he had failed. To see him every night. To know that he had let him die. To know he had brought it to him. Laufey failed and he bore it every day. Did he have to dream of this too? He would rather never sleep again. B _y the gods’ Luka, you must hate me._ His heart seemed to crack in half. To have his mate hate him…..Laufey could not bear it.

     “Your Highness?” he asked again. “Are you alright?”

     Laufey let out a short, pained breathe. He slid his claws out of his hand, ignoring the small drops of blood smeared on them. He shot the giant a glare before resuming his work. He took long, deep breathes as he stared the paper before him. The words blurred on the page. Blinking rapidly, he tried to calm himself. Luka said he was there because he was trying to understand.

  _Understand what?_ Laufey frowned. His death? Laufey’s failure? The War? Luka might be an illusion of his mind, but Laufey could not bear to fail even this.

      He would help Luka understand.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laufey attempts to tell Loki who he is to him. Loki reacts badly, and is horrified to find out who Nal truly is.

Something was different this time. Something was….off. Loki hesitated before slipping inside the Jotun’s dreams. He could feel the difference. It was cold yes, but not bitter. The ice did not reek of sadness and despair. Loki bit his lip, thrumming his fingers restlessly against the ground. Nál’s dreams were always dark. The Jotun -shepard? Loki imagined him to be a shepard- seemed keen on self torture and war. His mind positively radiated anger towards Odin, grief over something lost, bitter pride and the need for revenge. Loki had seen all of these things and more.

     Something was different this time. Hissing through his teeth, Loki slipped into the crack separating his mind and Nál’s.

        Opening his eyes, Loki saw what Nál was dreaming of that night. He was surprised. Instead of ice cold mountains and sweeping plains, or regret tinged oceans of Midgard, Loki found himself inside of a palace. His gaze swept over the towering stone pillars, the designs carved into the floors, the absolutely huge size of it all. Loki shivered. This was, without a doubt, the home of the Jotun King.

       Laufey.

       Damn, damn, damn….whose dream is this?

       Loki’s chest tightened. His hands shook ever so slightly. He had made a mistake. A horrible mistake. His dream walking had brought him into the mind of someone who had obviously been to the Frost Giant’s castle before. Backing up, Loki looked hurriedly around for the owner of this dream. A shepherd was one thing, but a lord or soldier? His father would have his head.

     If they did not guess who he was and somehow kill him. Loki shook his head. This was a dream. One could not die in dreams. This was purely mental. He could just leave the same way he entered. He would try again another day to see-

      “Luka?” a soft voice echoed. Loki spun, hands raised to defend him. He lowered them slowly as he saw Nál walk out from a massive doorway. The giant strode towards him, hands swinging at his sides. For the first time, Loki looked. Not at the Jotun’s race or sneering face, but to observe the nuances of him. The giant was not as tall as Loki had thought. He stood several heads above Loki, but Loki still managed to come up to his chest. His hands were large, rough, used for both killing and gentler work. He had eyes as red as blood and a strong face filled with-

       Loki stumbled backwards slightly. Nál walked towards him with a face filled with both determination and something Loki couldn’t identify. The idea of not knowing his intentions irritated Loki. Nák’s eyes were narrowed, fists clenched. The look in his eyes was not lust, perhaps fondness? Loki shook his head. As Nál obviously wasn’t looking at Loki with such unbridled determination and want, there had to be someone else in this dream. Perhaps a lover or relation? Loki looked around for this interloper, and to his surprise, found none. Before he could properly think it through, the Frost Giant was upon him.

      “You came back,” he said, voice low and rough. “I feared once I found out your true purpose you would never visit my dreams again.”

       Loki’s blood ran cold. It’s a trap, a trap, trap. He cursed himself, desperately looking for a chance to run past Nál’s hulking figure and escape. How in the Allfather’s name had he figured it out? Loki had never been to Jotun, no Jotun had made it to Asgard for years….How could he have possibly known who Loki was? About Loki’s rare gift of dreamwalking?

      “I-I,” he swallowed, trying to steady his voice. Nál advanced further, hands settling on Loki’s shoulders. He flinched at the touch. Nál’s hands were massive, and most importantly strong. Loki would not be going anywhere without blasting him with magic. If Nál knew who Loki was, such an act could mean war. Loki wanted to laugh. Father, all this time you worried about Thor’s war mongering actions. You did not see it would be me bringing Asgard’s ruin did you?

      “You what?” the Jotun asked. “Did you not think I would help you? That I was so heartless I would turn you away? Banish you from existence?” His hand released Loki’s shoulder to trace Loki’s cheekbone. The Prince stiffened, confused beyond words. Nál seemed not to notice his rising panic or confusion. “I lost you once my love,” he whispered, caressing Loki’s face. Loki, had he been thinking, would have bit him for it. However he was too stunned to do anything but gap as the Giant gazed on him fondly. “I would not lose you again, in any form.”

       What in the name of the Norn does this Giant think I am?!

       He stepped closer, eyes trained on Loki’s face. Loki found himself trembling as Nál pressed their bodies together. Loki opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything. Nothing came out. Loki could only gape as the Giant pressed his lips against his forehead in a chaste, almost humbling kiss.

       Unable to stand the look in Nál’s eyes, Loki turned and vanished back into his own mind.

       Waking with a start, Loki jerked upright. Panting, he shook his head. What in Odin’s name was that?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


        Laufey awoke quietly. He did not open his eyes. Instead he lay under the soft furs and wept.       

       Even in his dreams he failed his soul mate. Laufey’s fists tightened around the furs. His eyes flew open. His grief gave way to the cold, piercing fury of the Frost Giant King. If Odin had the right to claw out Laufey’s heart, then Laufey had the right to do the same. It might take years, centuries or eons, but Laufey swore it would be so.

        War would come to Asgard.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


       It took Loki almost three weeks to gather the courage to dream walk again. He hadn’t simply slept in so long that he didn’t even know what his dreams would be like. Loki wasn’t sure he wanted to see. But after two weeks of no sleep, he realized he either had to try or fall down from exhaustion.

      His dreams were nothing like he had thought.

      He did not dream of Asgard. Loki did not dream of his future, his magic, or his books. He dreamt of snow.Loki, ever curious, let his mind continue. The snow swirled around him. He raised his hands, his tiny, blue hands. Loki stared at them in a mix of horror and amusement. He dreamt of being a Jotun child? Surely Nál had corrupted him in revenge for ruining his dreams.

       Someone picked him up. Loki looked upwards, but the face was blurred. Hesitantly, he reached out for it. Whoever it was laughed. It was a deep, vibrating laugh that made Loki smile. The Giant, for what else could it be? picked him up and cradled him gently to his chest.

       Little one, the deep voice rasped. Little one your smile is infectious. How dare you make me laugh?

     Loki did not know, but it sounded like a challenge. He tried to reach up, to cling to the blurred face and shake laughter from it. Instead he felt himself being rolled onto his back and the cloth he was bundled was tugged away from his back. Loki struggled. Even in a dream this was hardly proper. Imagine, a prince of Asgard being unrobed by a Jotun.

     The giant was stronger than him though. Much stronger. All Loki could do was flail helplessly. He froze when he felt a long, clawed finger trail down his back. He shivered in the cold. The finger traced something on his back, rubbing small, comforting circles into his back. It would almost lull Loki to sleep if he were not already dreaming. Or confused.

       Oh little, the giant whispered into his ear. I knew you were special, but this? You will come with me….my soul mate…..

      Soulmate? Loki was flipped onto his front. He gasped in horror. Nál stared down at him. Soulmate? Loki tried to jerk away from the giant. It failed. Nál was strong and Loki was weak. Used to being in total control of his dreams, Loki began to panic. HE is my soulmate? What is this? A trick? A spell? Nál leaned down, nuzzingly his throat affectionately. Loki screamed but nothing came out. The world was spinning and it was all he could do to hold on to his sanity. I’m not your soulmate! He screamed. I am Prince of Asgard!

        He jerked awake. His covers were thrown off his bed and he panted as he felt sweat slicken his skin.

        How could I love a Jotun?

        He did not visit Nál until Odin told him war was looming.

  
  


       

  
  
  
  


        

         Laufey was glad when Luka appeared to him once more. It had been months since Luka had come. Now, with hostilities between Asgard and Jotun reaching their breaking point, it was heartening to see Laufey’s loved one. I will not hurt him again, he whispered to himself, striding out onto the cliff. Luka’s back was turned to him. It was rigid, as if he expected to be attacked. Laufey wanted to tell him there was nothing to fear. Laufey would not attack. He was meant to be Luka’s protector. This was the way of mates.

        “You returned,” he rasped out, surprised by the rawness of his own voice. Luka turned slowly, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Laufey took a step back on seeing his expression. He did not want to make Luka feel cornered. Laufey had felt that way before. It was an awful, hateful feeling to have. It seemed to work as Luka answered him.

        “I have questions,” he said, voice sharp as ice. “Questions I felt only you could answer.”

        Laufey nodded. He had been expecting as much. Last time, he had overwhelmed Luka. He had been so happy that in some way he had found a piece of his dead mate that he hadn’t stopped to think that this was also a punishment. Luka was a dream. A ghost. Nothing more. Laufey’s role in this was to explain his failures and let him go.

        Even if it meant losing him a second time.

        “Ask them,” he said, taking a seat on the snow. Luka’s sharp expression did not change, but he sat down too.

         “I had a dream,” he began. “After my last visit. You were in it.”

         Did ghosts have dreams? Laufey knew not. That was for the priests and holy men of the Old Religion to debate. He might ask them later. Surely they would be thrilled to have the king take interest in the spiritual realm once more. It had been a long time since Laufey had taken interest. He fulfilled all his duties as king. Nothing more. He could not bring himself to enter the temple. It had been where Luka had died. A place where he was supposed to be safe, and the gods and their priests had failed him. Laufey swore to never step foot inside again.

       “What did you dream of?” he asked. “What did I do in this dream of yours?”

       “You held me,” Luka snapped, as if holding him were a sin. Maybe it was, Laufey thought. How could he think Luka would forgive him for his failure? Luka continued. “You held me in your arms and you called me little one.”

       Laufey nodded wearily. His soulmate had yet to go through his naming ceremony. He had no name to be called. So Laufey called him little one, sweet one, love, treasure, so many names and not one had covered what he had meant to the young king.

        “I used to call you that,” he answered, trying to see if he could shake the bitterness from Luka’s eyes. “When you were a babe. That was a long, long time ago I’m afraid.”

       “A long time?’ Luka stepped back, eyes storming. “I have only known you for several months, giant. How in all the Nine Realms could you know me from when I was but a child?”

       Laufey raised his hand. Luka’s tone was harsh, biting as the wind. For someone who was impervious to most cold, it chilled him to the bone. “You were my mate,” he whispered hollowly. “I found you as a babe, thrown out to die…..but you were taken from me.”

         A short, hot burst of hate filled his chest. Laufey’s hands curled into fists. ODIN! he wanted to scream into the sky. Come down here so I might rip you into pieces.

        Luka’s laughter cut it off.

        “Your soulmate?” he mocked. His eyes flashed ice and fire. “You believe me to be your soulmate? You? A Jotun shepard is my soulmate?” He shook his head, rage filling his stance. “I doubt it. You’re a liar Nál of Jotun! Never could I be your soulmate, if such things exist.”

        Laufey leapt to his feet. Anger clouding his judgement, he yelled.

        “You doubt it?” he raged, reaching out to seize Luka’s shoulders. “You doubt I am your soulmate? You think I am nothing more than a shepard? Unworthy of your love?” Gripping Luka firmly with one hand, Laufey turned him around, ripping at his clothes. Luka struggled mightily against him. Futile attempts.

        “Unhand me!” he cried, thrashing. Laufey ignored his attempts. He tore off Luka’s layers of clothes, baring the skin on his back. Pale, smooth skin. Almost trembling, Laufey saw what he was looking for. A small, black, swirling flower on the small of Loki’s back. A mark identical to the one on Laufey’s own back. Reverently, he caressed it. Luka stiffened as he touched him.

         “What is this?” Luka hissed. “What is this game you are playing with me?”

        Laufey laughed mirthlessly. He turned Luke once more, holding him by the shoulders. “No game, loved one,” he said. “You have the mark of my soul upon your back. A mark that was there since your birth. I found you in the wild, I brought you into my home, and I was the one responsible for losing you to the Aesir.”

           “Losing me to-” Luka’s face was white. He trembled in the biting cold, his bare chest gleaming pale in the darkening light. “I am of Asgard,” he said. “And you are Jotun. How could you be-”

           “I am Jotun,” Laufey agreed. “As are you. I know not why you hide your nature behind an Asgardian disguise, but it matters not.” He leaned down to brush his lips against Luka’s forehead. “You are my soulmate. They took you from me. Hateful things,” he hissed angrily. “But I have you here, little one, and one day you’ll realize you belong by my side. Ruling as my queen, my consort.”

          “Queen?” Luka asked, voice both curious and fearful. Laufey pulled back.

         “I am Laufey, King of Jotunheim. You are my mate, Luka, and I would have made you Queen.”

        Laufey barely felt the slap.

       Luka swirled away into the mists and he was left alone once more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! First of all, thank you to everyone who's taken in interest in my story. I honestly didn't expect too many people to comment/give kudos/subscribe or bookmark. But you guys did and that leaves a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart. ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki rages, growing colder than ice. He is Jotun.

 

   

   _It was impossible._

   Definitely impossible.

   There was no possible way that Loki, son of Odin, could be soulmate to Laufey. Laufey, king of Jotunheim. He wasn’t even Jotun! No, Loki thought to himself, pacing the room madly. _No it cannot be so…._

      He glanced into the mirror, eyes tracing his black hair and high cheekbones….sharp, defined features that looked nothing like his family. Hands shaking, he tore his gaze away.

      “It cannot be so!” he screamed, firing of a blast of magic. It hit his bedroom wall, sending the surface of the stone flying. Chest heaving, Loki resumed his pacing.

      It cannot be so.

  
  


      He told himself such when he asked Frigga if she thought he resembled her more than Odin. Her eyes flew open, a sharp, pained expression flitting over her face so quickly no one but Loki noticed. He told himself so when he saw how Odin looked upon Thor with pride and at Loki with something akin to apathetic curiosity. He told himself as such when he realized that his hair was as dark as the night and both of his parents and brother had hair as golden as the sun.

       Loki stared at himself in the mirror.

       He might have lied to everyone in Asgard and beyond, but Loki never lied to himself.

       He was different.

       Placing his hands on the Casket and seeing his skin swirl from peach to blue confirmed it.

      That night Loki both raged and wept.

       

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


         Once there was a Valkyrie in Odin’s halls. A strong woman with a sun kissed hair and eyes of stone. She appeared one day and simply stayed. Frigga did not bother with her and Odin merely let her stay. Loki had been too young to understand why she was there, but old enough to recognize that the others thought it wrong that she was not in Valhalla, but in Asgard. He would watch her. With his wide youthful eyes he would see her wander the gardens like a wraith. She would be wrapped in white, hair loose. She was a woman of few to no words, but she was always kind to Loki. Thor she seemed to despise, but she liked Loki.

 _Maybe because she knew then what he would find out._  

    Loki heard malicious talk, but he did not understand. He saw her thickening belly but he did not understand.

_He didn’t understand her shame, but he understood the malice._

      She had committed a horrible sin. Sins. This Valkyries’ first sin was to love. Her second was to act upon that love, and her third was to refuse to admit that her love had been wrong. Loki dreamed of her. Not of her walks in the gardens nor of her shame, but of her laying on a bed with blood between her legs. A horrifying dream. One that taught Loki the importance of dreams and their meanings. 

       The Valkyrie had died in childbirth.

       Loki did not understand death. It was a horrible, horrible thing to see that strong woman lay so still and defeated.

       Her quarters were cleaned, her clothes put neatly away. Her things were set upon the ship with her body. Her daughter was sent to be raised by the Valkyries. Within days it was as if she had never walked Odin’s halls.

       _He didn’t understand how one could just vanish._

     Later he grew and Loki understood.

      The woman’s greatest sin was not her child. It was that she had dared to be different. Different was seen as dangerous. It had to be dangerous. The gods of Asgard all lived in fear of Ragnarok. In fear of their coming deaths set in stone by the Norns themselves. They were spinning towards their fates without a thing in the world to stop them. All it took was one tiny, tiny little change in their course and they’d hit Ragnarok so fast they’d be dead before they realized it. The gods’ thread of life was quickly unraveling and they knew it.

      Someone different could be that change.

       Loki took a deep, deep breathe before he straightened to look into his mirror. Green eyes stared back at him. They almost seemed to mock him. _Look at us!_ they cried. Look at yourself. _Look upon the eyes of a Jotun._ Loki’s breathes grew sharp. Trembling he raised a hand to his image.

_A Jotun! I am Jotun!_

     Without warning Thor’s voice from years ago raced across his mind like a curse.

_“And when I’m king I’ll slaughter them all!”_

_The monsters._

_The Frost Giants._

_Me._

    Screaming in his pain, Loki smashed the mirror.

    That night his dreams were dark as ink and red as blood.

      

  
  
  
  
  
  


       Loki’s dreams held no answers for him. He did not expect them to. They, in his raging emotions, were uncontrollable. He dreamt of Jotun and of ice. Of Asgard and golden hair. Of Thor standing over twisted, broken Jotun bodies with blood dripping from his hands. Loki cried out, thrashing wildly as Thor approached him. _War is coming!_ Voices in the wind shrieked into his ears. _War is coming!_

_War is coming!_

      Loki shook his head, hands raised to defend himself. Thor swept over him. His eyes flashing thunder and hate. “Brother!” Loki screamed. Thor kept coming and Loki fell backwards, mouth open in a desperate scream. “Brother!”

      The dream twisted, sending him flying down, down, down. Blue ice turned red, the white of snow turning black. Loki screamed as the cold bit at him, Thor’s hammer crashing around him. Odin laughed and Frigga cried. Loki thrashed and cried. Tears of blood running down his cheeks.

      “War is coming!’

       “Monsters,” Thor’s voice swirled around him. His soothing tone belied the horror Loki felt crushing his chest. “Aren’t Jotuns monsters? _Brother_.”

       Loki awoke with a pained cry. Sweat glistening on his skin, Loki curled up in his blankets. Chest heaving, he shut his eyes tightly.

         _War is coming. Laufey, Laufey war is coming._

  
  
  
  
  
  


    

  
  


     

 

    He found it, eventually. It took him long enough, Loki thought ruefully. He stood in his bathroom, back turned to the newly replaced mirror and neck twisted in order to see. His long fingers traced over the small, swirling pattern of black on his lower back. He had known it was there, he supposed. Loki had, like so many others, explored his own body thoroughly. Loki had seen it before. He just never had a reason to put much thought into it.

   _I should have though._

     He scowled at his own foolishness. Birthmarks of the Asgardian were strange, blob like things. Simple, discolored skin forming random marks upon the body. There was no finesse to them, nor were there patterns except where imagination and ale saw fit to give it. But  Loki’s, Loki’s was different. His was black. Blacker than his hair. A small, five petaled flower with swirling vines and leaves around it. It looked like a tattoo instead of a birthmark. He would have doubted it had he not known it had been there since birth.

     He traced it carefully. It had been three months since he had last seen N-Laufey. He had chosen to dreamwalk into the minds of those….less involved. Maidens from Midgard, warriors from Asgard, roaming travelers and even a Dark Elf. All interesting, tiny little dreams. Almost happy compared to Loki’s. But he liked it that way. That way Loki would not have to take on any other grief than his own.

 _I wonder where Laufey’s is….._ he mused. Loki had researched soulmates obsessively in his three months. He had, unsurprisingly, found almost nothing. Just a footnote in a large book full of misinformation. A tiny little missive that chillingly stated the gods of Jotun gave their most cruel gift in the forms of soulmates. One soul, split in two and thrust into the world without direction. It would take a miracle to find one’s other half, but search one must.

 _Soulmates,_ the book almost hissed at Loki. _Are forever._

    It was obvious that Laufey thought so. Loki shuddered. He was the soulmate of the King of Jotun. Odin’s sworn enemy and killer of thousands of Asgardians. If Odin had known! Loki shook his head, hand on his chest to relieve the panicked horror gripping him. Odin might have saved what he thought was a slave child or even a prince of the realm….but Laufey’s intended? The one to bear him children and stand by his side? (yes, to Loki’s horror he had found out that male Jotun’s could carry child!) Never. Odin would slaughter him as happily as Thor would any Jotun.

     His fingers clawed at the birthmark _. You’re a monster,_ his mind hissed. _And if they know much more, they’ll kill you._

      Loki might hate things he knew little about, but he was not a fool.

     He needed more information and Laufey could give it to him.

      Loki lay down, eyes sliding shut. He would get his answers from Laufey and then he would leave him alone for good. He did not need a soulmate. He certainly didn’t need a Jotun soulmate. Thor was out stirring up war in the other realms. Laufey, he had heard, was eager to do the same. Laufey would never love a Prince of Asgard. A Prince of Asgard could never commit the sin of loving a Jotun.

     As he dreamt, the stoney eyes of the Valkyrie haunted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the interest in this fic! I apologize for the late update, but I did just move over 26 hours and several states over. Thank you for your patience. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laufey is not a fool, and Loki returns to his dreams.

   Laufey, Jotun King, was no fool.

  He was centuries old. He had brutally carved his path to becoming king. He had fought wars, killed thousands, and had held onto his power through many an attack. Laufey was no fool. He knew when people lied. He knew what they truly sought, what their twisted, greedy hearts desired. He saw this and he changed it to his advantage.

    Laufey’s mother, a cruel queen in her own right, saw this. She feared him for it. What does a mother do with a child who perceives more than you? A child who sees your darkest secrets and uses them against you? A child who would undoubtedly rise above his favorite brothers to claim the throne? You fear him.

    She tried, may the gods bless her soul, to warn his father.

    The fool had not listened. Laufey prevailed. He killed Skialgrson, his eldest brother, with a dagger through his throat. He then walked into his father’s chambers. One slash of the same dagger, and the king lay dead.

     The army followed Laufey. The council was forced to bow, as were his brothers. Laufey, not a fool, killed over half of them. His mother, protected by the sacred traditions, was thrown into the Temple in the Far North. There she died. Laufey was king of Jotunheim. His name was feared above all others. Even Odin was forced to acknowledge his brutal reign. Laufey did not think he needed anything other than _power._

    Little Luka proved him wrong.

    Laufey shuddered, his claws digging into the side of his throne. Once more, his council was irritating him. Talk of war floated through the room. Rumors, plans, talk of armies, peace, arguments. Laufey had heard it all before. No matter what they said, inevitably they would reach the same, silent conclusion.  

      Odin did not want war. The Allfather fought to keep war away. Every war dragged Asgard closer and closer to Ragnarok. He could not afford for that to happen. Laufey was no fool. Odin feared the End more than anything else in all the Nine Realms. He did not want war. He fought to prevent it. But if he had to, he would fight. 

      Peace rested on Laufey’s decision.

_War?_

_Peace?_

_Luka!_

      Laufey growled softly. His aides glanced worriedly at him. Wisely, they said nothing. His temper was short these days. _It has been months since Luka visited me…..If he is nothing more than a memory, why can I not summon him?_ Something stirred in the farthest reaches of Laufey’s mind. An icy, mocking thing creeping along in shadows. Laufey was missing something. Something important. It twisted in his mind, taunting him. It almost burned.

       “What am I missing?” he hissed quietly to himself. Baugsson, the council member speaking, stumbled nervously over his words. Laufey jerked a hand in his general direction. Baugsson nodded thankfully and continued. Still nervous though. The giant might be one of the largest Council members, but he was a coward.

      _Why is Luka not coming? I should be able to summon him at will. Months have passed and still nothing. I am missing something! Something obvious._

_Laufey was no fool._

       He was clever, cunning, and he needed not Odin’s ravens to perceive things.

       By the time his council arrived at the conclusion that peace or war rested solely upon Laufey’s decision, he had seen what he had been missing. Something so glaringly obvious Laufey could retch.

        Luka was not a dream.

        Laufey stood, sweeping out of the room. His council bowed as he left. He did not turn around. Instead, he stalked to the library. The servants inside were shocked, dropping their books to the ground. It had been years since Laufey had entered. Once, he had memorized every book inside the vast library. As he grew older, the knowledge remained, but blurred. As if they were shadows in his mind. Usually Laufey knew what book contained the shadow’s form and sent for it. Rare was it he came down to the Library. This time he did. He did not dare simply send for a book. No, he needed to scour these shelves for what he needed.

_Luka was not a dream. He was real._

      How his soulmate survived, Laufey did not know. How his soulmate appeared to him in his dreams, he did not know.

       Throwing down a massive stack of books upon a table, Laufey took his seat. He could feel the giants watching him in curiosity. He ignored them. The Asgardians thought the Jotuns to be uncultured. Stupid and savage. They were wrong. The Royal Library of Jotunheim had stood longer than their own. It had books from all Nine Realms and held secrets so dark not even Odin knew of them. Laufey would find his answers here, or nowhere.

   

 

     

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


        Finally, Loki returned to Laufey King’s dreams. He had not dared to before. Before he had been vulnerable, too vulnerable. Dreamwalking was rare for a reason. It took much strength to delve into the minds of others’. Even more strength to leave them. Loki might find most creatures’ minds to be weak, but dreams made them strong. In the dream realm the dreamer was god. They made the rules, they chose the game. As his first experiences taught him, it was ever so easy to be folded into the dream. He did not dare delve into the king of the Frost Giant’s mind without being strong.

      It also gave him time to wonder if he really wanted to face Laufey again.

_I need answers!_

     Loki slipped through the cracks separating Laufey’s mind from his own. The cold did not seem to bother him. Not has it once had.   _I wonder if it’s because I now know I am Jotun. Jotuns do not feel the cold. Is it because they are born of ice or because they feel nothing?_ The thought made his stomach churn painfully.

    Tiny snowflakes swirled around him. Loki held out his hand, letting them land on his palm. They melted instantly. Sighing, he looked around him. Laufey was dreaming of Jotunheim once more. Loki recognized the stone, the ice. As he went to step forward, he paused. Something was off. This was not the Jotunheim he had been in before. Something dark moved here. The smell of ash drifted in, carried by the howling wind. Something was burning. Loki glanced up at the stone pillars, seeing the scars of battle carved into them. This was Jotunheim in war.

      “You’ve come, dreamwalker.”

       Loki turned. Warily, he watched as Laufey stepped out from behind a pillar. Loki observed him. He walked with purpose, with strength. As if mountains bowed before his will. Laufey’s head was held high and his eyes burned red. How could he think this giant was a _shepherd_? He walked like Thor, like a king. Laufey raised his hands, stopping several feet away from Loki. All Loki could do was stare.

       “Yes,” he rasped. Loki had envisioned this moment countless times. What would Laufey do? Say? How would Loki feel staring at his soulmate? Loki expected Laufey to be angry with him. Angry for leaving him, for cursing his name. Loki would be angry. Loki was angry and he had been the one to vanish for months. He curled and uncurled his fingers nervously. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Loki licked his lips, continuing. “I have questions for you.”

      Laufey nodded, stepping closer. Loki backed away, flinching. Pain flickered over Laufey’s face. Loki turned away. Laufey grunted, stepping back.

      “I know,” he said. “I anticipated them.” He waved his hand in the direction of some steps leading deeper into the building. Loki assumed it was a castle or fortress. Careful, Loki began to follow Laufey up the stairs. He did not know what Laufey had planned. That was dangerous.

     “If I am your soulmate,” Loki began, fighting to keep his voice even and uncaring. It worked. The words slipped from his lips as if he were discussing the weather. His time in Asgard had taught him to lie well. Don’t let them see you cry. Don’t let them see you hurt. Don’t cry, don’t feel. hide it all away and lie. Was that not the lesson his family had taught him? Loki shivered. He didn’t know why that left him with an aching hole in his soul. “If I am your soulmate, why was I raised as a son of Odin?”

      Laufey glanced over his shoulder. A deep set scowl flashed across his face. Loki recognized that look. That look was one of pure, unbridled rage. “Why?” Laufey hissed. “Why? Because Odin stole you from me. The coward distracted me with his army and stalked into the holiest of places.” Laufey spat over the edge of the stairs. Loki’s eyes followed it into the abyss. “He defiled our temple by bringing war into it. He disgraced them by taking my soulmate, by taking you! You who had been placed in the hands’ of the gods for safety.”

      Laufey paused at the top of the stairs. Turning, he took Loki’s hand in his own. Laufey’s hands were huge compared to Loki’s own. The blue hands carefully wrapping around him. Loki stared at them. It made him look like a child compared to the size of the clawed hands. He swallowed hard. The sight of Laufey holding his hands made him feel….happy.

      If he had been stronger, he would have ripped his hands away. Loki was not strong though. Laufey kept talking, rubbing his thumb across the back of Loki’s hand. “ The war had come to Jotunheim. Nothing was safe. I, the king, couldn’t keep you safe. I left you there because I trusted the gods would be stronger than I.” Laufey’s shoulders sagged. “They were not. Odin took you. I-I thought you had perished.”

      Loki’s tongue felt thick and heavy in his dry mouth. Swallowing, he replied. “Did you care?”

      Laufey’s grip tightened. His red eyes flashed angrily. “Yes,” he hissed. “It tore my heart out to think that you had died. To think that I had failed you. Jotunheim mourned you for centuries.”

      “And you?” Loki asked, suddenly needing to know. He twisted the hem of his shirt around his fingers. Scrapping his fingernails across his palm so hard he was sure he drew blood.

       Laufey scowled. Leaning down, he brushed his forehead against Loki’s. “I never stopped mourning you. Losing you was like losing my own soul.”

      Loki lipped his lips. “And now?”

      Laufey smiled, teeth as white as a wolf’s. “Now you are _mine_ once again.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Laufey speak of chains, marks, and of returning. Laufey has plans and Loki fears war.

 

       Loki knew what it meant to be prey and predator. As he grew up in Asgard, he had always been the prey. With his dark hair, shrewd eyes and awkward, shy personality, he made the perfect target. Loki had been born small. Tiny really, Frigga told him. He had an air of fragility that hung about him like a curse. Thor had been the first to see it. His older brother hadn’t even known it though. Thor had been born large and blonde like most of the Aesir. It was just too easy to push Loki over. To trip him on the grass or wrestle him to the ground. Loki played the part of the prey and Thor the predator.

      By the time Thor made friends with who would become Warriors Three and Lady Sif, Loki’s part had been cast in stone. They too found it easy to shove him over. To pull his black hair or taunt him for his size. Thor laughed, why shouldn’t he? Loki was tiny, Loki was slow. Loki was smart enough to take care of himself. Wasn’t he? It took years for Loki to realize that he was smart. Or at the very least clever. More clever than any of them. Loki grew older and he grew colder. He learned how to read men’s faces. To predict their actions before they even knew what their next step was. Loki learned all the dark arts. He learned how to blend into shadows, to see the future, to kill without even being in the room. To distract the enemy from his true intent. He learned to hide behind silver words and smiles. To flatter and to hurt with words. Every motive of his was shrouded in darkness to the point even Heimdall questioned them. Loki transformed himself into a hawk.

      Thor didn’t like it. Thor didn’t _understand it._ How could he? He had always been touched by the sun. A beautiful soul, really. He had always been the one who hunted. Thor had never been hurt in his life. How was he to understand why Loki reveled in hurting him now? He never would. Loki liked it that way. No, he was the hunter even when his prey knew not. Loki was shrewd now. He perceived things better than even Frigga. Frigga with her cold eyes and wise mind. He knew when he was prey.

       Right now, staring into Laufey’s crimson eyes, Loki felt like prey.

       “Yours?” he said. “Does a soulmate’s mark bind people together? Is it a chain looped around my neck?”

      Laufey hissed, showing his wickedly sharp teeth. Striding forward, the giant pulled Loki to him. Loki gasped, realizing how _tiny_ he was next to him. He barely came up to Laufey’s broad shoulders. _He’s taller than Thor._ The thought made him smile, however briefly. Loki had seen the eyes of a predator on Laufey. They gleamed much more harshly than Thor’s ever did. Laufey would swallow Thor whole. Laufey leaned his head down, hovering close to Loki’s face. Loki flinched. Laufey’s face fell, but only for a moment. The next instant his face was as unreadable as stone.

      “It is no chain,” Laufey said. His hold tightened. His claws dug into Loki’s skin, tugging him closer. “The mark of a soulmate is a gift from the gods. Luka you are the other half of my soul. You are the pieces that I have always missed, the stars in my sky and the passion of my war cry.”       

      Loki heard Laufey’s voice rise. It boomed over the snowy landscape, echoing off the stone. Laufey towered over him, clinging to him so tightly Loki could barely breath. “If Odin had not stolen you from my arms, you would have been my Queen. Do you understand? I would have given to you Jotunheim!”

        Laufey’s gaze remained fixated on Loki. His eyes burned him. Loki trembled under his gaze. In Asgard no one looked at Loki. Loki was a shadow. One never looked at a shadow, one only acknowledged it was there. Laufey gazed upon Loki. His eyes seemingly trying to memorize every last piece of Loki’s soul. It mad Loki wish to turn to dust. To blow away in the wind or to fall back into his own mind.

        “I would have,” Laufey whispered, voice hoarse. “I would have given you my soul, my kingdom, my wealth, my power, _anything_ you could have asked of me.”

       Loki swallowed, his tongue thick in his mouth. “Would you have, Laufey King?” he asked. “For kings do not share their power nor their kingdoms.”

       “I am not Odin,” Laufey said. “I am Laufey, King of Jotunheim. For you, I would have given anything. Do you doubt me?” he laughed bitterly. Loki felt his chest raise, pressing into him. “For you I would do anything. I would Soulmates are not chains, Luka. They are blessings. If you want something from me, you only need ask.”

       Silence hung over them. Loki knew not what to say. Laufey held him tightly, trapping him in his arms. Loki was not used to physical touch. Odin had never truly enjoyed hugging him. It weighed upon him heavily to do so. Once Loki noticed this, he stopped asking for them. Frigga stopped soon after. Thor touched him. He gave him touches on the shoulder, shoves down the stairs, small touches on the knees or his cheeks. But Thor never looked at him like _this_. Thor never held him like _this_.

       Loki felt as if he stood on the edge of a cliff. Laufey stood with him. One shove and they would both fall. Loki could feel it in his bones. They would fall and fly and tumble down, down, down.  Into what he didn’t know and Loki feared it.

      “It is time for me to awake,” he said. To his surprise, Laufey did not contest it. The king brushed his cold lips against Loki’s forehead, his nose, his cheeks.

      “Then go little one,” he said, his expression dark and guarded. “I will await your next visit.”

      “You would let me go so easily?” Loki asked. He studied the tall giant carefully. Laufey was clever, so the legends said. Clever enough to nearly bring Asgard and its king to their knees. Loki had come expected a trap. Is there none? Or the darker alternative. _Did I miss it?_ That perhaps was one of Loki’s greatest fears. Everyone set traps for him. Thor did, unknowingly. The Warriors Three did, in spite. Sif did, with glee and anger. The Asgardians in their pompous nature laid them before his feet in hopes of ensnaring him in their bitterness. Loki had always seen them. He was no fool. He knew when people wanting him to fall. What happens on the day he misses the trap?

      “Not so easily as you would think,” Laufey said. “Be safe my little one. War looms nearer than even Odin may think.”

       With that, Loki was released from his arms. Fearing a trap, he swiftly turned his heel to flee back into his own dreams. Laufey called out as he ran. “Will you return?” For such a strong voice, there was a tremble in it. Loki did not look back. If he did they would fall. 

       “Yes.”

       Then he was gone.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


    Laufey waited hours for him to return. He sat on the snow and waited. Laufey King knew it was in vain. Luka had gone. He had promised to return, but what were promises but words in the wind? Laufey knew not his true name nor where he lived. Luke had left. Still Laufey waited.

_I am an old, tired fool._

    Sighing, he looked down at his hands. They were large with calloused skin from wielding weapons. Hours and hours of fighting and warfare hardening them like stone. Scars covered them. Small little marks, scrapes and wounds Laufey had no memory of. He imagined, briefly, what it would be like to Luka holds these hands. He’d watch as his mate brushed over his scars with his long, pale fingers. Perhaps he’d ask Laufey how he got them. Laufey would lie then, making up stories of war and mishaps. Luka would know he was lying, Laufey would think. But perhaps Luka would merely smile and accept the falsehoods.

    Laufey stood and tossed the dream aside. He was an old fool, but he still was clever. He walked out of his dream and back into the world of the living. Not bothering to blink at the moon’s light, he strode out from his room. The priests had told him their spell would only work if he touched Luka within his dream. Laufey had done his part, they would now do theirs.

   _Only a true fool would go to war without knowing exactly where his soul mate lived._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


   

 

 

 

      Loki thought about the way that Laufey held him. The way Laufey kissed him and talked to him. He thought about it more than he should have. Loki ran his hands over his arms, tracing the pattern of Laufey’s hands. He shivered. It was as if Laufey had branded him with his touch. Loki resented the idea, but found himself thinking of it again and again. Now Laufey King haunts me while I am awake. Ironic, now that he thought about it. He haunted the King’s nights. The King haunted his days. A fair trade, most would say, but Loki was never about fairness.

     Ripping his hands away from his arms, Loki peered out the window once again. The people of Asgard had gathered outside the palace. Mothers, fathers, old men, young girls, crying children. All manner of people stood at the gates of Odin Allfather’s home. They cried out, begging to be heard. Loki heard them. He knew Odin did as well. Some asked for protection, for him to avoid war no matter what the cost. These were the old men, scarred by war in body and mind. These were the mothers, clinging to their children. Others called for war, for revenge and for honor. These were the young, the reckless, the blood thirsty and worst of all the idealistic.

      It pained Loki to see how many looked like Thor.

      “They’re calling for you,” he said, suddenly realizing he was not alone in the shadows of Odin’s halls. The Allfather himself appeared. He walked without a sound, treading to Loki’s side. Loki felt the weight of Laufey’s lips upon his cheeks. He could not bear to look at his adopted father for fear of showing his treason in his face.

      “I hear them,” Odin said, voice low and gravely. “I always hear them.”

      “How will you reply?” Loki asked. “What is the great Allfather’s answer?”

      “Patience,” Odin said. Startled, Loki turned to look upon him. There was no mirth in his face. Odin leaned forward, gazing at Loki with his one eye. Loki thought of how it had been lost. Laufey had clawed it from him. Loki’s chest tightened at the idea. “Patience,” Odin repeated. “And loyalty. Loyalty to Asgard is all a king could ask for, is this not true Prince Loki?”

      Loki did not answer. Odin did not seem to be accepting one. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin visits the Norn. Loki reflects on promises while Laufey schemes and waits.

    “How long until the spell works?” Laufey asked. His voice was low, dangerous even. The King had come to the priests for the first time in years. If Laufey was not focused upon Luka, he would have been amused by the rumors it produced. His people cared not what he did. In their opinion their King had fared well the lose of his mate. Frost Giants were a warlike race, bloodthirsty and strong. Yet even the most ruthless of them could not imagine finding their soulmate only to lose them right away. In the temple of the  _ gods  _ no less. Laufey’s ability to rule on proved his heart of a stone. His people respected him, for they could not love. His council and nobles were another matter. They cared deeply about Laufey’s actions.  _ All  _ of Laufey’s actions. 

     They were beyond curious. Why had their King called upon the priests again? Had he not cast them away with the death of his mate? The rumors flew through the air. They spread to every corner of the palace and beyond. Laufey heard them. He ignored them. His council always talked and he would be damned before their wagging tongues had Luka’s name upon them. Not before he had Luka in his arms. 

      “It will take time my king,” the old priest said. He leaned over his tools of magic. His long, blue fingers picking at the bones and charms. They scratched more runes into the dust. “Dreamwalking is an ancient magic. It goes back long before this world, before Odin’s reign. Some tales say it is older than the Norn Stones, a remnant of the world before ours.”

      “Fascinating tales,” Laufey said. “But of little use to me. War is coming priest. I must know where he is, who he is, before it arrives.”

      The priest nodded, unaffected by Laufey’s rage. That was the positive thing of handing one’s life to the gods. Kings, wars, nobles, storms, and rage. Nothing mattered. Why should it? If the priest did die, his soul would flee the barren Darkness everyone else was sentenced to. He would be at the side of the gods. Laufey, perhaps, if he had Luka back. 

      “He is strong,” the priest said, gazing upon his charms. “He has hide himself well. Even Odin would struggle to untangle the magic he has wrought.”

       Laufey slammed his hands upon the wall.  _ CRACK!  _ The wall groaned, pieces of it flying off beneath his fists. The priest clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t care about Odin,” Laufey snarled. “I wish to know about my soulmate.”

       “Know you shall,” the frost giant said. “But it will take time. The longer he spends in your dreams, the stronger our spells shall be. The more you touch him, the easier it will be to find him.”

       There laid the problem. Would Luka return? He had said he would.return. Promises meant nothing. Laufey had promises things before. He had broken those promises with no guilt. The only promises he ever truly meant to keep were the words he swore to his mate.  _ I’ll keep you safe. I’ll win you stars and realms. I swear you’ll be kept happy and well. I swear to love you forever and in my own troubled way show it.  _ Laufey had broken all save the last. He intend to keep them now. 

     “When he returns,” Laufey promised. “I will give you as much time as you need.”

     “Very well Laufey King,” the priest said. “That is all our magic can ask for.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


    The people continued to come. Day after day they asked Odin if war was to come. Day after day the Allfather gave them no reply. Thor was irked by it. Thor wanted war. He longed for it, he needed it. The bloodlust flowed in him, coloring his life. Loki with his gift of second sight, could see it in his eyes. The stormy grey giving way to red and black. The red ghosted across Thor’s hands, staining his hammer crimson. Loki prayed to the Norn to keep Odin awake. If the King fell into his Odinsleep now, Thor would call for war. 

    War would ruin everything. 

   Odin knew this, or so Loki guessed. Otherwise the King would have called out his warriors long ago. Loki was more clever than Thor. He saw more. He knew more. Loki  _ was more.  _ He knew that now. How could Loki be anything less after what his dreams  had revealed? He was (supposedly) was the soulmate of the Frost Giants’ King.   _ His very heart.  _ The thought of it made Loki’s blood thrum beneath his skin. A nervous, tight fear that stole his breath. 

      But he  _ saw.  _ Odin was talking to the Norn. Loki was not sure of it a first. But as he stood in the halls beneath Odin’s hall, he knew it was true. Loki shivered, clinging to the shadows to hide him. Odin rarely if ever came down here. Odinking had no reason to. No one did. Loki ran his fingers across the wet stone. It was cold down here. Very cold. Not as cold as Jotunheim, but cold enough. The Norn lived down here, if the Norn truly lived  _ anywhere.  _ The aging women did not truly live. 

     They were the Norn. They came before, they were now, and they would be after. Loki had no other words for it. They were simply  _ more  _ than he. More than Thor, Sif, Frigga, Laufey and even Odin. 

      “Odin fears them,” Loki whispered into the shadows. His voice echoed out into the tunnels. It gave him courage, if only a little. The words were not exactly true. Odin feared change and the Norn knew everything about  _ change.  _ The prophecies of the End, of Ragnarok, spoke of change. Odin might be king, but he could not fight the Norn’s words. Loki stopped walking, his hand stilling on the stone. “Oh,” he whispered, because it made sense now. Odin feared war because war meant change. 

        War could mean Ragnarok. 

        Loki laughed, not caring if Odin heard him. Odin had more problems than  _ him  _ to worry about.  It gladdened him. Loki was born with mischief in his soul.  _ Trouble  _ he thrived on. Loki sighed and walked deeper into the tunnels. It was almost time for slumber and for dreams. Dreams meant  _ Laufey.  _

__ Loki did not often keep his promises. They were but words on the wind. Silver words meant to be broken. Even Thor with his love of “honor” broke promises. Not to those who mattered, but he broke his promises to those who did not. Loki did not matter. Promises had been spoken and broken so many times he had lost count. The count did not matter either. 

     They both lied. 

     Loki creaked open the secret door leading out of the tunnels. Odin came down his own secret way. Loki came down his. They left in the same way. Crossing paths was something both of them avoided, especially when the Norn were involved. The Norn might not care about the ways of Asgard, but they were fearsome when annoyed. The last god to do so had not lived long. His name had all but been forgotten. The Norn had wiped his very existence away. No one remembered save Loki. 

     Loki always remembered. 

     It was because he knew how painful forgetting could be. Or rather, how painful  _ remembering  _ could be. Loki walked out of the lair of the Norn. He headed for his room and his bed. He would meet with Laufey tonight. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


       Laufey waited for Luka. 

       It was now a familiar pattern. Laufey would be king while the light of Jotun’s small sun shone. He would call for his council. He would argue with his council members and rage against the particular foolish. He would write laws, pass judgement, and rule his people. Laufey would be  _ king.  _ The sun would turn its face away. The twin moons would rise. Laufey would return to his chambers and drink the vial of potion the priests had delivered onto him. He would lay down and he would sleep. 

       In his dreams, he would wait. 

       This pattern had been going for two months now. Some nights Luka did not come at all. Some nights he would only stay for minutes. Other nights he would stay as long as he could. Laufey took them all. Luka had promised to come. Laufey had promised to be there. Every night he would wait. Luka might come, he might not. if he didn’t, Laufey would wait until he couldn’t any longer. If he did, Laufey would try as hard as he could to keep him there.  _ The spell is taking too long. War is coming, it’s almost here. How much longer can I push it away? I need to know where Luka is.  _

__ “You look troubled tonight,” Luka said. 

     Laufey sucked in a deep breathe of the frigid air. Smiling gently, he turned around. Luka stood in the shadows of the castle pillars. His shrewd, sharp eyes watched the king carefully. Laufey often wondered what had happened to make those eyes so cold. They were not born that way. Jotuns have ice in their veins. This was agreed in all the Nine Realms. Yet Luka’s eyes were the bitter cold of someone who had been taught not to trust. Laufey’s eyes were the same. Laufey’s father and countless brothers had made sure of that. 

     “No longer,” he said. “I am gladdened now that you have arrived. Walk with me?” He held out his arm. Luka took it with ease. The nights upon nights Laufey had spent with him had seemingly helped Luka grow more comfortable with physical touch. Laufey fought for it with caution. If he did not fight, Luka would not touch him at all. If he did fight, how much would be too much? It was a thin line that blurred more and more each night. It irked Laufey. He needed to touch Luka. The more the better.  _ But I cannot scare him away.  _ Luka’s fingers slipped through his. Laufey smiled, drawing him out of the shadows. 

      “You look handsome tonight,” Laufey said. He said it every night. Luka knew this, and so he smiled. 

       “Thank you Laufey King,” he said. The taunting had vanished from his voice. Laufey shook his head gravely. 

       “No,” he said. “It is Laufey to you.”

       Luka raised an eyebrow. “I was lead to believe Jotuns valued respect. Would you have anyone call you solely by your name?” 

      Laufey gently squeezed Luka’s hand in his. “Only you,” he said. They began to leave the castle’s cold corridors, wandering out onto the cliffs. “Not even my mother called my merely Laufey after I became king.”

       “You were not close to your mother?”

       “She favored my brothers,” Laufey admitted. “When I became king she knew not how to win me over. I believe she did not even try. I banished her soon afterwards.” He dared to draw Luka nearer to him. The priest’s words rang constantly in his mind.  _ The closer he is to you, the sooner the spell will work.  _ Luka came, perhaps not willingly. He seemed strange tonight.  _ Off.  _ His eyes were sharp, but unfocused. His breath was quick and harsh. Luka gripped his hand tightly. He was troubled. 

_ War is coming.  _

__ “I have read about that,” Luka admitted. He gazed out over the barrenness of Jotunheim. Laufey wondered what his soulmate thought of it. Did he find it dead? Too cold? Foreign? Did he ever believe it could be home to him? 

      “What else have you read?” Laufey asked instead. He was not sure he wanted to know the answers to those questions.  _ What if he said no? _

__ “Trivial things,” Luka said. “I have not have time for much reading however. There’s a dark cloud on the horizon. It is drawing nearer and nearer.” Luka shuddered. The tremor of his hand made Laufey wish to pull him close. He resisted the urge. He let Luka continue. “My people fear it.”

_ We are your people,  _ Laufey thought bitterly. 

__ “My father fears it.”

_ Whoever Odin gave you too is not your family.  _

__ “My brother wants it.”

_ He is no kin of yours.  _

__ “I believe I fear it.”

_ I will finish the spell,  _ Laufey thought.  _ And then I will know where you are and who you are. Then my plans for war will be decided.  _ Luka glanced up at Laufey. His eyes, ever cold, looked calculating upon him. Laufey realized he was being inspected. For what he could not tell. He prayed to the old gods he passed. Luka stepped closer, licking his lips. 

      “I ask for a favor,” Luka said, his voice low. Laufey bowed his head. 

      “I am yours to command,” he said. Luka nodded. Moving as swift as a serpent, Luka reached up and brushed his lips across Laufey’s. It was a mere touch, a gentle moment. Then Luka pulled away. There was a worried crease between his eyes. 

      “I will take my leave tonight,” Luka whispered. “Thank you….Laufey.”

      He vanished into the stars of Laufey’s dreams. 

       Laufey stared in silence at the space where his soulmate had been. Smiling to himself, he ran his fingers over his lips. The priests had been right. Luka was feeling the bond whether he wanted it or not. 

_ I swear I will not fail you this time.  _


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor speak of habits and shadows. Loki flees to Laufey in rage, only to wake to a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. :)

         Thor was not as foolish as Loki thought. He might not be as clever as his younger brother, but Thor was no fool. He had eyes as well as any man. He saw things. More things than Loki would give him credit for. Things that weighed heavily on the warrior’s mind now. Thor sighed, frowning as he leaned against the pillar. He stood in its shadows, watching Loki from across the courtyard. His younger brother walked back and forth, holding a book up. He was walking whilst reading.  _ A waste of time,  _ Thor thought. Why not simply walk where one is going and read when one gets there? 

      But Loki seemed not to be reading at all. The dark haired man’s eyes flitted across the page. The same page he had been on for the last five minutes. Thor read little, but even he knew that Loki was not truly reading. His mind was on other matters.  _ What  _ those other matters were concerned Thor greatly. His brother had not been himself lately. Loki was always hovering by Thor, being his second shadow. Loki was always offering him advice. Giving counsel, playing tricks, exchanging bitter words with Thor’s friends. Loki was always  _ there.  _ Whether he was arguing, deceiving, or merely observing, Loki was  _ there.  _

__ Standing by Thor. 

      Now a days he seemed to be lost in his own world. A world that Thor could not follow him into. Loki retreated there every once in awhile. He hide himself inside the palace, hid himself from Thor. Thor knew not what brought it on, only that it happened. In those times, Loki’s temperament was cruel and secretive. Bitter, silver words fly from his lips. Words meant to cut and to pierce. In those times not even Frigga sought him.  _ He needs room to think,  _ she would say.  _ Loki’s head is a very small space for his mind. He needs room to  _ **_think._ ** Thor never knew why Loki couldn't think around him. Was Thor not his brother?

      Brothers told each other things, such as when they had grave matters on their minds. Thor’s frown deepened as Loki licked his lips. He appeared distracted, his pacing swift. Abandoning all appearances, Loki threw the book to the ground. Placing his hands behind his back, Loki frowned, deep in thought. Thor watched in confusion. His brother seemed not to be in a wrathful mood. If anything Loki seemed to be more….reflective. As if he had a puzzle he could not figure out. Or if someone had proven smarter than he, or-

       Thor growled.  _ Or if someone has wounded him.  _

__ The Crown Prince of Asgard was a man of action. He took action now. Striding forward, Thor called out to Loki. He was going to find out who had hurt his brother badly enough to leave him hiding from all for weeks. Asgard was on the edge of war and Thor  _ needed  _ his brother by his side. “Loki!” he called out again. Loki’s head jerked up. Eyes narrowing, Loki stilled. 

      “Thor,” he said, voice cold. “What brings you down to this lowly, usually  _ empty  _ courtyard?”

      “I sought you,” Thor replied.  _ Is it one of the Warriors Three? Sif? I have warned them against taunting Loki. His soul is made of different materials than ours.  _

__ “You have found me brother,” Loki said. He peered at Thor, his eyes questioning. He was most likely wondering what had brought Thor all the way down here. This courtyard had long been forgotten, a relic of olden times. Thor supposed it was why Loki liked it. It was old and lost. He seemed to appreciate those things. “Now what do you intend to do?”

       “I intend to discover the cause of your quietness Loki,” Thor said bluntly. “It is not like you to be so distracted.”

      “Distracted?” Loki mused. He shook his head. “Perhaps I have been distracted of late.”

       Thor’s worry grew. Loki did look  _ distracted,  _ but not in his usual way. He bit at his bottom lip until it turned crimson with his blood. Loki’s hand flitted about himself roaming at his sides as if he knew not where to put them. His brother looked  _ worried.  _ Pale. Loki looked paler than was normal for him. Dark shadows lay under his eyes. He had not been sleeping well.  A fierce protectiveness coiled inside of Thor. “I have seen this,” he said. His voice boomed out over the courtyard. If he would stop to think about it, he would recognize the harsh contrast between his voice and the still courtyard. “And more.” Thor stepped closer. “Has someone hurt you brother? You appear unwell.”

     Loki stepped back. His hands did not stop moving. “No one has hurt me,” he said. “No one at all. Myself perhaps.” That last sentence was said quietly, almost to himself. Thor heard it. He scowled. Loki did not  _ hurt himself.  _ Others hurt Loki. That was how it worked. 

       “You lie!” Thor said. “I can see it upon your face. Someone or something has deeply upset you.” Thor racked his mind, searching for things that would upset Loki. Loudness upsetted Loki, as did roughness or too cruel words. He had seen none of those things lately. Lately his brother had been  _ hiding. Hiding from me?  _ Thor tried to think of why Loki would be avoiding him. He hadn’t done anything different lately, nothing aside from -

      I  _ Oh.  _

__ Thor sighed, stretching out his hand to Loki. He did not take it. He looked suspiciously at it like it was a trap. “Is it because you worry about the war? Do you worry about Jotunheim?”

      Loki recoiled as if he’d been slapped in the face. His eyes grew wider, his mouth hung open. For a split second Thor saw panic on his little brother’s face. Then is vanished. It hide itself behind a carefully calculated calmness. Loki’s hands fell still. He gripped his book tightly, so tightly his fingers turned white. It was the only sign that Thor’s words had struck home. The entire change had been so fast that if Thor had not been looking for it, he would have missed it. That was the power of Loki.  _ So swift to hide!  _

       “I worry not for myself” Loki snapped. His white fingers betrayed his lie. “But for Asgard, as should you.”

        Thor shook his head.  _ Something has happened.  _ A voice whispered to him. An ugly, timid voice he usually ignored. Thor did not ignore it now. Not when it came to this matter. It mattered to Thor that Loki return to his usual self. That he return to being  _ by  _ Thor where he should be. “I will not allow any harm to come to you,” Thor insisted. He moved closer to Loki, placing his large hand on Loki’s thin shoulder. “The accursed Jotuns and their king will die soon enough, I swear.”

       Loki’s eyes glimmered. Thor stopped, Loki looked  _ disappointed.  _ Disappointed in  _ him.  _ Loki stepped back, brushing off Thor’s hand. Tucking his book beneath his arm, Loki began walking away. “It’s far too late for me to not be hurt,” he called back. “Far, far, far too late.”

       Then he was gone. Thor was left in confusion. 

_ Already been hurt by the Jotuns?  _ he thought. Thor’s hands clenched into tight fists. An anger began raising inside of his chest, a hot, bubbling sensation. Turning on his heels, Thor stalked away. 

_ They dare wound my brother? In my own house they dare it?! _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

         Loki was raging. He flew about his rooms, hands shaking from too many emotions wracking his body.  _ Anger  _ was the one Loki identified at once. As he stormed he gave names to the others.  _ Anger.  _ Anger over his own inability to hide his emotions. How could Thor of all people recognize something had changed? Thor! His stupid, incompetent, blond haired brother? Loki hissed. It showed how little the Asgardians watched him.  _ It has been months since this began! Now that I care he notices? _

__ Loki stopped. 

       “I don’t care,” he said aloud, as if trying to convince himself. “I care not about Laufey, or the war.” Even to his ears it rung as a lie. A bitter, ugly lie he could rid himself of.  _ “I don’t care!”  _ he screamed, throwing his book across the room.  _ Thud!  _ It hit the wall, falling to the ground. Loki recognized more emotions as they swirled around him.  _ Confusion, worry, disgust, sadness, fear. _

_       Fear? _

__ Loki bit his lip. It already bleed from earlier, yet his teeth still tugged at it. The taste of iron wet his tongue. It hurt, but only in a dull ache. Loki did not stop. Pain kept him grounded, it kept him together when the storm inside wanted nothing more than to rip him to pieces. Yes, Loki was  _ afraid.  _ Afraid of Thor, afraid of what his brother would do when he discovered Loki was Jotun.  _ Would he strike me down? Would he turn his back on me? Would he recoil in disgust and refuse to face me? Would he hurt me? Would he like hurting me?  _ The questions churned in Loki’s mind until he could bear them no longer.  _ When he does find out, what will Laufey say? He knows not that I am  _ **_Loki of Asgard._ ** _ Laufey says he will love me forever, does he truly mean it or is it a broken promise? _

       Quickly, Loki walked over to the long table by the windows. Hands trembling, he began mixing a sleeping potion. His pacing had taken more time than he had thought. The sun was already beginning to set. The fiery orb hung low in the sky, the moon beginning to raise. It wouldn’t be long before the stars joined it. Loki stirred the draught inside his hand. The dark liquid bubbled in the goblet. Loki would never sleep the way he was, the potion would correct that. 

        He needed a burning question to be answered. A question only Laufey could answer. Taking a deep breath, Loki swallowed the potion. As soon as he did, his surroundings began to blur. Loki dropped the goblet. He didn’t hear it hit the ground. His world began to grow dimmer and swirled around him. Loki staggered over to his bed. Not caring he was fully clothed, he collapsed upon it. 

        The darkness overtook him quickly. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

          When Loki opened his eyes, he stood inside Laufey’s dreams. He had dream walked into the King’s mind so many times he no longer had imagine the crack to fall into. Loki simply wished to be there and appeared. It was disquieting at times how simple it had become.  _ Does he trust me enough to not wreck havoc upon his mind?  _ Loki wondered. He could do that, if he truly wanted. Loki had destroyed minds before, usually those who would not be missed on any account. One had been a prisoner of war. It had been so  _ simple  _ so walk in and ruin him. A simple push there, a shove here. A toppled castle and a few cruel words. When Loki had awoken, he’d been told of the crazed prisoner who babbled endlessly about the shadow haunting his dreams. 

         It had been a good day. Not because Loki had hurt someone, but because Odin had looked so perturbed. He had been planning on interrogating that prisoner that day. He had needed to know certain things about wars. Loki had seen that information. That vital information Odin so desperately wanted. He did not speak of it to anyone. 

      They called him cruel yet they had no idea how generous Loki could be. He had saved that man much pain. Possibly he had even saved his life. The Asgardians did not execute the insane. 

       Loki exhaled sharply. He was standing on a cliffside, his back to the dizzying drop. He faced fowards, eyes set ahead on the frozen landscape before him. He stared thoughtfully at the icy plains. He had seen this place before. Angrily, Loki shoved away the thought. He was here for Laufey. He needed to speak to Laufey. 

        Stalking forward, Loki began walking into the snow covered land. Laufey was not asleep yet. He felt it in the air. This mind felt empty, hollow. He would have to wait. Loki spent his time pacing, his mind storming with too many emotions for him to truly control. It made Loki feel helpless. He loathed feeling helpless.  _ Helplessness  _ was for the weak, for those who could not protect themselves. Loki stopped, laughing mockingly at himself. Was he not here because he was helpless? Because he had realized he could not protect himself? 

_ Jotuns are monsters,  _ Thor’s voice echoed in his mind.  _ I swear I’ll kill them all! I’ll protect you Loki, I’ll protect you from the monsters.  _ A promise made when they were children. Loki’s stomach churned at the horror of it. Thor didn’t know. He couldn’t know! If he did, if Odin ever told him…. _ if the war reveals my true nature….Thor will-  _

__ Loki’s breathes came in short, pained gasps. His eyes were wide, but they saw nothing. Loki was not one to give into panic. This time he could not stop himself. He fell head long into the darkness and it consumed him.  _ War is coming, war is coming,  _ he chanted.  _ Laufey against Odin, Laufey against Thor. Thor, Odin against  _ **_me._ ** _ We will die, we all will die. Or perhaps just me.  _ Fury prompted him to kick a rock over the edge of the cliff.  _ Why would Odin be so cruel as to kidnap a child? Does he intend to use me as a bargaining piece? Or does he keep me as a symbol of his triumph? The poor abandoned Jotun babe! _

__ “Luka?” 

        Loki froze. Turning, he saw Laufey standing in the snow. The King held his hands out, worry etched across his face. Without a thought, Loki’s feet flew over the snow. His emotions forced him to  _ move.  _ Anger, worry, disgust, fear! Loki needed something he could not name. He needed to be wild, needed movement, needed  _ Laufey.  _ His body tumbled towards Laufey without grace. The King caught him, his mouth open to ask Loki a question. Loki had too many questions of his own to hear Laufey’s.  Loki threw his arms around Laufey, dragging him close. The contact made him burn. His skin felt as if it were on fire, burning for  _ more.  _ Loki stood on the tips of toes. Throwing reason away for the base desires of his heart, Loki slid a hand on the back of Laufey’s neck. 

        “Luka,” Laufey asked, his eyes piercing into Loki’s. “This is what you want?”

        “ _ Yes,”  _ Loki hissed. He pressed his lips against Laufey’s. This was not the chaste kiss he had given him earlier. This was passionate, demanding. Loki’s lips clashed against Laufey’s. When Laufey failed to respond immediately, Loki bit his lower lip. He was rewarded with the taste of blood. Laufey growled fiercely. Sweeping Loki into his arms, he kissed back. Loki gasped as Laufey pulled them tightly against each other. Laufey took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside Loki’s mouth. Startled, Loki almost pulled back. It was nothing like Thor had described. Thor had said it was  _ nice,  _ that is was  _ pleasurable.  _ He had said nothing about the searing heat of Laufey’s tongue pressing his to the bottom of his mouth. He said nothing about the way their lips slid over each others, clashing almost violently in search of  _ more.  _

_        How could a Jotun be possibly be so warm?  _

__ The thought was chased away when Laufey groaned into his mouth. Loki’s eyes flew open. He was kissing the King of Jotun. He, the prince of Asgard! If Thor could see him now….Anger raising, Loki closed his eyes. Laufey’s hands gripped him so tightly he knew there would be bruises there. His long claws pricking at Loki’s skin. The bit of pain left Loki feeling heady. Laufey dominated the kiss, leaving Loki wondering how in the Realms he had let it come to  _ this.  _ Loki did not do  _ this.  _ Thor did things likes  _ this,  _ but then he was ever the more beloved brother. The one the maidens sought after. 

        Laufey pulled reluctantly pulled away. He kissed Loki softly once more. “I love you,” he whispered, voice rough. “I always will. Do you believe me?” his hold tightened, tugging Loki closer until everything touched. “Or do I need more to prove it?” His voice held a hint of threat in it. 

        In the back of Loki’s mind, Thor appeared. His beautiful, blond brother who swore who to keep him safe from monsters. Loki angrily shoved the image. He pressed his hand against Laufey’s neck, bringing their lips closer together. “I  _ might,”  _ he whispered, trailing kisses against the King’s throat. “Need more prove, soulmate. Or was that a pretty lie for a pretty face?” Laufey growled a warning. Loki realized it was most likely the only warning he would receive. Loki had a calm acceptance of it.  _ This  _ was something to be had between him and Laufey. Between the two mates. His treacherous family would share no part in it. 

        “It was no lie,” Laufey hissed. “And you are playing with things you do not understand  _ little one.” _

__ Loki glanced up at him, his eyes burning. “I am no longer little,” he said. 

       Laufey smiled, a gentle upturn of the corners of his lips. It seemed forced, as if Laufey were not used to smiling. Loki would think the King did not smile often. Jotunheim was a cruel Realm and its King must be made of ice and stone. “No,” he agreed. “You are no longer little at all, Luka.”

      The false name stung. Loki sighed, shaking his head. “Luka is not my true name,” he said. “I think you have already guessed that. I am-”

         Something struck him. Loki gasped, feeling himself being yanked harshly back to a state of consciousness.  _ What is this?  _ His knees buckled. Only Laufey’s arms around him prevented him from falling to the ground. Loki forced his gaze to the Jotun’s face. Laufey’s crimson eyes opened wide, staring at him in horror. Loki wished to tell him he would be fine, that this wasn’t harmful to him. Yet his body was vanishing in Laufey’s arms and Loki no longer had a mouth to speak with. 

         He was pulled  _ up and up and up.  _ Through swirling snow, the blackness between stars, and the cracks between minds Loki flew. 

          Loki opened his eyes. 

          Frigga loomed over his bed, her hand holding a lantern aloft. Loki saw the reflection of tears in her red, red eyes.  _ Not as red as Laufey’s, but the red of weeping.  _ He sat up at once. “What is it?” he asked, voice low from sleep. She bit her lip. Her long fingers curled tighter until they turned as white as bone. 

         “Thor has gone to Jotun,” she said. “The Allfather does not believe he will come back.”

_ Oh you fool. You precious, annoying fool! _

__ Loki did not speak for fear of showing how truly afraid he was. 

**_This is the price of caring._ **


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki remains by Frigga's side and muses on loyalty. Thor and Laufey meet. Laufey King is not pleased at all by the circumstances.

Loki, despite what others believe, was always afraid. His fear was s of ice and stone. It curled inside of him, its fingers ghosting over his bones and inside his blood.  _ His Jotun blood, apparently.  _ If there was any bitterness to his thoughts, Loki kept them quiet. He was not Odin’s son. He was not Frigga’s. Their blood only flowed in Thor. He accepted it, just as they had. 

  How ironic then that Thor would be gone and he remained. 

  Loki sat beside Frigga, as was usual now. The night sky hung above them and the wind rustled the trees around them. The royal gardens were Odin’s wedding gift to Frigga. No one would disturb them. Loki’s hand lay in his adopted mother’s. Her skin felt cold, yet his was colder. Perhaps that was why Frigga had not touched him often. How could she when his very skin reminded her of the monster in her home?  

_ Laufey does not find me monstrous.  _

__ An interesting thought. One that made Loki want to recoil from himself. His brother was  _ gone.  _ Thor was  _ gone.  _ He had gone to Jotunheim, to Laufey King himself. Thor had gone and he hadn’t come back. Loki’s fingers curled tighter around his mother’s. Yes, even now he could not call her anything else. Frigga had tried. She had struggled to accept him, as was right of an Asgardian Queen. Loki could not fault her. She had tended to him when no one else had. She had taught him magic and all of her fighting skills. She had tried to protect him from Odin, in her own way. Loki’s eyes swept over her still figure. Frigga gazed at the sky, but she was not seeing. No, no he could not fault her. Frigga had loved her flesh and blood more than a monster. 

     Yet she had  _ tried  _ loving Loki. He swallowed, patting her arm comfortingly. Frigga was not perfect and he would take what she offered. It was not the same as what she gave Thor, but it was enough. Frigga sighed. Her gaze lowered to the trees and flowers. It swept over them restlessly. She would have no peace tonight. 

     Her true son was gone. 

     “Loki,” Frigga said. He did not look at her again. Loki did not want to see her tears. 

     “Yes mother?” he said, being a touch cruel. It was his nature and Loki could not stem it. He felt her flinch. The tiniest of movements, there none the less. It hurt Loki more than he thought it could. 

     “Heimdall says Thor is alive,” she said, voice roughened from crying. “He says he is being held in King Laufey’s prison.” 

_ Laufey King,  _ Loki thought. He nodded. He knew this. He had been there when Heimdall had told the Queen and King. It had relieved Loki. From the moment Frigga had awoken him to the moment he heard Thor lived Loki’s mind had been in chaos. It stormed and raged, screams echoing out from the depths of his soul.  _ How could you do it?  _ they demanded.  _ How could you have kissed the Jotun that killed your brother?  _

_         If Odin discovers us…. _ **_me…._ **

__ “Thor will return to us,” Loki said to distract himself. He took Frigga’s free hand in his own. It had been listlessly moving around. Loki could not bear the movement. His revelation left him feeling raw and frightened. “I swear he shall come back,” then as an afterthought, “I will stay with you until he does.”

    Frigga offered a small, sad smile. “Oh Loki,” she said. Her fingers squeezed his hands tightly. Tears gleamed in her eyes, the pale light of the moon reflecting on them. Her hair lay unbound, falling down past her waist. She looked more beautiful now than she ever had. 

     “I promise it,” Loki repeated. He supposed he pitied her. The Queen who had no pride (she left that sin to her husband and son). The Queen who had lost much. The fragile woman who had no one but the unwanted son to cling to. Odin should be in Loki’s place.  _ Odin  _ should be the one to swear it.  _ Odin  _ should have been the strong one. Alas, Odin was king before he was husband and father.  _ War means change, change means chaos, chaos brings the end.  _

_       Would you forsake Thor for more time? _

__ **_But war is coming anyway father. Laufey has decreed it._ **

**** “Loki,” Frigga sighed. “You are a good son to me. A better son than I have been a mother.”

     His head jerked up. Loki’s eyes widened, staring at her.  _ What is this?  _ Suspicion clouded his mind. Loki had suffered enough pranks at the hands of Thor and his friends. He knew better than to  _ hope.  _ She shook her head, biting her lip. 

     “I never loved you as I should,” Frigga whispered. Her voice was as raw and haunted as Loki felt. “I regret that now. You gave me all you had to give and I couldn’t give you what I gave Thor. I was too weak.”

_ No,  _ Loki thought.  _ No you were strong. Stronger than Odin.  _ Yet Loki could not say that. He knew enough of Frigga’s mind to know better. Frigga was mother and wife first, queen second. To tear another hole in her family would be cruel. Loki was cruel. Crueler than most, he had been told. But taunting his mother now would do nothing but leave him guilty. The guilt told Loki more about himself than he ever had known. 

      “He will come back,” Loki said quietly. Tears stung his eyes. A surprising weakness that Frigga did not speak of. Both of them knew when to ignore each other's’ weaknesses. Loki held her hands and mused on Thor. Loki  _ loved  _ Thor. He loved him more than he loved himself. Loki hadn’t known that was possible. Yet he trembled like a leaf at the thought of Laufey killing Thor. 

    Loki might love Laufey, but that was selfish. That was reaching for something Loki could never ever have. It was to reach out for something only to have his hands slapped away like a child. Loki had no time for that. Laufey didn’t belong to him not matter what the Jotun said.  _ Soulmates are truly designed for ruin,  _ he thought.  _ Or I was born for ruin.  _ Judging from Loki’s small stature, he should have never lived long enough to be found by Odin anyway. Jotuns killed their runts as a sacrifice to their gods. Laufey saved him then. Who else would rescue a child destined to die?

_ But that doesn’t matter anymore.  _

_          It cannot matter.  _

__

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


__ “So this is the prince of Asgard,” Laufey snarled. The guards behind him remind silently and still. A wise choice. Laufey had murder in his heart and strength in his arms. He was not king because he was  _ weak.  _ Laufey stood as king because he knew when to kill. More than once the snow of Jotunheim had been stained crimson since he came to reign. The guards knew, hence their silence.  _ Thor,  _ if that was  _ its  _ name, did not know, hence his angry cries. He acted like a caged animal. Laufey watched him pace his cell, his hands curled into fists. Before he had been kicking at the stone walls. His wrath had barely left a mark. These cells were built to hold the strongest Jotun. A fail, tiny Asgardian relieved of his weapon had no hope in breaking them. The prince scowled darkly at Laufey through the bars. 

     “Why have you left me alive?” he demanded, his voice booming. If Laufey were not so angry, he would have laughed at him. Thor was wounded, trapped, and disarmed. Yet he still had the boldness to  _ demand.  _ It made Laufey hate him even more. How  _ dare  _ Odin have a son when he had taken Laufey’s mate? If the king hadn’t they would have been married. Laufey’s hands trembled ever so slightly in anger. Perhaps Luka would even be with child by now….. _ but the Allfather took what wasn’t his! _

__ “I would have rather killed you,” Laufey hissed, red eyes glowing in the darkness. “As would my Council, but I have use for you yet.”

     Thor’s scowl deepened. He abandoned his pacing, coming to the edge of the cell. Thor peered through the bars, his hands holding onto the bars. “What use would you make of me?” 

     Laufey had no reason to tell him. He turned his back on the brat, walking towards the stairs leading out of his deep prison. Thor was fortunate indeed he had only encountered his guards. After watching Luka  _ fade  _ away in his arms, Laufey had nothing but rage and fear in his soul. He would have killed the prince. Yet the gods may have blessed him one last time. Laufey was not there and Thor had lived. 

     “We shall see,” Laufey replied. “But a prince is a valuable asset in times of war.”

      He left Thor to think what he would of it. Laufey climbed the steep stairs upwards. His guards trailed behind him, fearfully hanging back. He ignored them. Laufey thought Thor would likely think he was being held hostage. Perhaps the price of his life would be the return of the Casket. Laufey shook his head. His Council had assumed the same. In fact they had demanded it of him. 

_ Demanded.  _ The King had never been one to listen to pitiful demands. He told them to be still. Only one refused. It was an older lord, one who remembered the weakened final days of Laufey’s father. Laufey found it ironic he could remember that but not his violent succession. The lord had bleed out on the floor of the throne room. Laufey’s soulmate had been ripped from his dreams. Was he suppose to be merciful at such a time? 

    Laufey growled, his claws digging into the icy wall. The gouges joined the ones prisoners had made on the journey down. The castle’s dungeon was seldom used. Criminals were tried and killed quickly. Minor offense were handled with beatings or seizing of personal belongings.  _ Imprisonment  _ was normally reserved those who were to be interrogated. Laufey marvled at how much pain a Jotun could take before they broke.  _ Luka is Jotun and he too can take pain, but Laufey refuse to think about it.  _

__ Luka was gone. Gone where Laufey had no idea. It burned him, hurt him, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than he had felt in years.  _ Someone had taken him unwillingly.  _ It meant someone had attacked him. Someone had attacked Laufey’s  _ soulmate.  _ The more rational side of his mind said it was more likely to be Luka falling out of bed than an attack. Laufey’s heart could not accept such an answer. Luka had not come back. If he hadn’t, then something was dangerously wrong. 

    Laufey snarled an order to the guards following in his footsteps. They bowed before vanishing into the corridors of the palace. Laufey’s council be damned. Thor was a bargaining piece Laufey would use wisely. The king’s feet turned in the direction of the Temple. It appeared he would have to walk there once again. The Priests remained the most skilled in magic within his realm. Laufey scowled, a dagger of ice forming in his hand. He had given them months. If they had not discovered where his soulmate was, it would not end well for them. 

_ I cannot go to war without knowing where he is.  _ Laufey took a sharp corner. Two Jotuns started on seeing him. Wisely they turned and fled.  _ But war is  _ **_coming Allfather,_ ** Laufey’s dark thoughts said.  _ It is coming for you, I swear it.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone :) Sorry for the late update, it's not fun at all when cliffhangers come and then the authoress makes you WAIT so long for it. I'm sorry it wasn't intentional :( Thank you for commenting down below, bookmarking and leaving wonderful little kudos.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki worries; Laufey finds out more than he ever thought he would and war arrives on Vanir.

   

 

   It had been three weeks since Thor had gone to Jotunheim. Three weeks since anyone had any news of him. Three weeks since Asgard fell into a hellish limbo. There was no singing now, or parties, or laughter. There were no smiles and mothers kept their children close at hand. The people of Asgard felt what the royal family had known for well over a year. All of them felt what the panicked few screaming outside the gates had felt for months.

   There was war in the air.

   Loki had not dreamt in three weeks. He could not bear to, not when the walls seemed to drip red in the blood that would be spilled. Loki saw it, he felt it. The doom hung around his shoulders like weights. It dragged him down, dragged him to his knees. Loki walked through Odin’s halls as slowly and painfully as if he were crawling.

   There was war in the air and Loki could not dream.

   Perhaps he could dream, if Loki wanted to. But Loki felt as if his dreams would hold nothing but horror for him now. Laufey was in his dreams. Laufey, the giant- no, no the _king -_ who loved him. The king who swore to protect him. _Laufey, Laufey, Laufey...._ The king who held his brother captive. The king who threatened to rip apart Loki’s entire world.

    _If I go to Laufey now,_ Loki whispered to himself, running his fingers across the edge of his bed. _What will I even say to him?_ Loki had no idea. That in itself was troubling. Troubling enough to keep Loki awake all night. He restlessly moved about his bed, his slender fingers grasping at the sheets. He gripped them as if they were a tether linking him to reality. Their coldness screamed _you are here. You are awake. The stars are above you and the ground is below you. You are not falling through the blackness between minds, you are are slipping into the mind of the one you love._ Loki trembled, sitting upright. His room was cold that night. It was an odd feeling, Loki was not normally cold. He never got cold. Now he knew it was because he was born of ice and of snow.

   Loki shivered. Slipping his legs off the edge of the bed, he walked towards the window. The stars would not offer him much comfort, but he prayed they would offer him some. Laufey would be on his mind, as he always seemed to be. Loki shook his head. He prayed one day Laufey would no longer haunt him. Whatever they had been had vanished like smoke the day Thor left for Jotunheim.

       _War is in the air._

_War is coming to my home._

  
  
  


   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  


It had been three weeks.

   It had been _three fucking weeks_ since Loki had come to Laufey. The King paced about his vast rooms. The furniture in all of them had been slashed to pieces, the walls bearing claw marks. His rage left his mark on his quarters. There was nowhere else for it to go and it had to go. If it did not go somewhere it would drive Laufey mad. Laufey paused mid-stride, his hands clenching into fists. _Maybe I am already mad,_ he thought. _Did Loki drive me mad as revenge for failing him?_

Laufey would deserve it. There was not a creature in all the nine worlds that could feel as if he did not deserve it more than he did himself. Snarling a curse, Laufey resumed pacing across the ice of his floor. He should have forced the priests to find him sooner. He should have peeled their flesh off their bones. He should have-he should have done _more._ Why by the gods did he not do more? The priests said there was a circle in Niflheim for those who failed their soulmates. The tales went that Hel’s own soulmate had failed her, leaving her trapped in a half-rotted body in the world of the dead.

  Laufey growled, stomping over the window. The vast nothingness of his kingdom lay before him. Jotunheim was as cruel as its king. No life could be found on the surface, only ice, stone, and bone. Even the hardiest of the Frost Giants found Jotunheim nights to be freezing. They were all inside, waiting for the pale light of day. In usual circumstances, Laufey would be waiting as well. However, this night was not usual. Laufey felt anger in his bones and desperation in his heart. Fists clenching, he turned towards his door.

   The Asgardian bastard had much to say it seemed. If Laufey could hold in his anger, perhaps the bastard could be manipulated into saying something worthwhile for once in his miserable life. It did not take Laufey long to make his way down to the depths of his dungeons. It was not a path he took often. Laufey was not a merciful king and he was not weak. Those who betrayed or failed him met their deaths immediately. However, the bastard had survived his wrath for three weeks. Not because Laufey was merciful or weak, but because he was needed. If Luka did indeed survive, Odin would give him up or leave his son to die. Odin had another son, Laufey knew, a dark-haired thing who rarely appeared in public. Rumor had it Odin did not favor him the way he favored Thor. _He will trade my mate for the life of his favored son._

  If Odin did not, or Luka had fallen, then Laufey would drag out the rest of the bastard’s miserable life with blood and pain.

   “You again,” the bastard hissed, tugging at his chains as if he could break them. Laufey scowled back at him. So arrogant, so sure of himself. Were all Asgardians like him? “What do you want now, demon?”

    Laufey let out a short, low laugh. “A demon you call me?” He demanded. “You believe yourself so righteous that I am reduced to a demon?” Laufey shook his head, his lips curling back to show his pointed teeth. “Perhaps I _am_ a demon, by your standards.” _But even a demon can love,_ he thought. _And we love passionately._ Laufey’s hand slipped up to brush against his lips. If he pressed hard, he could imagine it was Luka kissing him again. It was an action he had repeated many times over the last three weeks. It was a painful reminder of what had been lost. Laufey jerked his hand down. It was also a reminder of could be gained should Luka return to him.

    “I have questions to ask of you,” Laufey hissed. “Question you would answer should you value your-”

    “I do not fear death!” Thor shouted, lunging forward. His chains rattled and groaned as he fought against them. Laufey took a silent step towards him. The grim look upon his face made even the bastard bite his tongue.

     “ _Fingers,”_ Laufey finished. “Or your toes, feet, hands, and arms. I have use for your life, _Odinson,_ but I do not need you whole.” He raked his claws against the cold bars, creating a screeching noise in the stillness of the night. “A thousand years ago,” he continued. “Odin took a child from my halls. At that time the child was only a babe, but now they would be only a few hundred years younger than you. Would you know of them?”

     Thor snorted, his eyes gleaming in the dark. “A babe?” He said, derision in his tone. The bastard retreated back into his cell, leaning against the wall. Laufey shook his head. The wall was coated in a thick layer of ice; the prince would find no comfort there. If he had been a kinder king, he would have given the prince a blanket. Laufey was not kind; he was worried. Who knows what horrors his Luka had suffered at the hands of Odin. _He can stand a bit of cold._

  “There was no babe,” Thor sneered. “Not that I know of.”

       _THUD!_ Laufey slammed his open palm against the bars. They rattled angrily, causing Thor to start. “Do not lie to me cursed Odinson,” Laufey warned. “I am not to be toyed with.”

       Thor straightened, a look of pride settling across his face. Oh, how Laufey longed to reach through the bars and tear it off. “I do not lie,” he insisted. “There is no baby who came to the palace in that time. The youngest child in the palace is Loki himself.”

    Laufey’s heart skipped a beat in it’s strong pattern. “Loki?” He asked, voice rasping. _Luka, Loki, the names are similar….did he lie about his name?_ It would not surprise Laufey. His mate had the look of mischief about him, deception lurking in his eyes. It had not troubled him until now, deception would serve Luka well in Laufey’s courts, but….Laufey’s hands tightened around the freezing metal. _That clever man, keeping his true name from me._

“Who is Loki?” He demanded. “A servant? A slave? A prisoner? Tell me!”

      Thor’s shoulders were thrown back. He stood tall and proud; a younger, more foolish vision of his damned father. When he spoke his words struck Laufey like a dagger to his hardened heart.

           “Loki is Prince of Asgard,” Thor snarled. “My _brother.”_

Out of all the twisted punishments Odin could have cast upon Laufey, that was by far the cruelest.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Laufey stood before the High Priest. His arms were crossed, his back straight and jaw clenched. It was a pose of danger, a warning the priests would be wise to heed. They had been given more than enough time. Laufey came to claim what they had promised him. If they did not deliver Luka’s (or was it Loki?) position today, they would die. His people would not murmur a word. They would not dare to. If the priests themselves were sacred, soulmates were even more so. No one could speak against him if his actions were done in Luka’s name. Other kings had laid waste to entire worlds for their soulmates; anything less of Laufey would be weakness.

    Jotunheim king could not be _weak._

“Is the spell finished?” He asked.

    The high priest bowed his head, waving his wrinkled hand towards the table filled with numerous, unknown objects. Laufey saw books older than even him, pages black with age. Skulls of creatures he knows not of lay on top of the books. Scattered across it all were pieces of jewelry, string, vials, bone, candles, and smears of blood. He ignored it all. His attention was on the map of the Nine Worlds the priest has motioned to.

     “The one who bears your mark has been found,” he whispered, tone hushed and reverent. “He is in Asgard.”

     Laufey’s heart lurched in his chest. He felt as if someone had dragged his world away from him, but that it is a feeling he had experienced too often to be disturbed by it anymore. He did not feel lost. He felt as if he has finally found his bearings in a snowstorm. No longer was he stumbling in the bright white. Laufey, thanks to the bastard prince, already knew what the priest would say next.

      “He is in the halls of Odin,” he said.  

      And Laufey only smiled.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


   In the end, it is far easier to convince his council than Laufey had thought. He believed they would be hesitant. That they would only remember the failure of the last war and the lose of the Casket. Laufey remembered that war better than all of them. He fought in it, slaved in it, bled in it, and lost so much more than any of them. Laufey lost his soul in that war. Now, he had a chance to win it back. He thought he would have to kill some of his council in order to convince them of the seriousness in his words.

    Instead, all leapt at the chance to war once more. Laufey had stepped back, truly looking upon his court. He saw bloodlust in their eyes, religious anger in their fists, and outrage upon their faces. It seemed the priest’s confirmation of Laufey’s soulmate’s survival had done what he feared impossible. They had been roused to war. Bauggson was still a fool, but he proved his worth. The lord offered his own soldiers to send a message even the Odin king could not ignore. Laufey agreed to it easily enough.

     After all, what king would he be if he could not sacrifice the lives of strangers?

     His council seemed to agree. They shouted their approval; both of Laufey and of Baugsson’s plan. _At last,_ he could almost see them think. _At last our king will wed, at last our king will have an heir._ It was not why Laufey was beginning a war, but he would not argue with it. He barked an order to the general standing to his right. The giant briskly bowed and vanished without a word. Laufey had faith he would do what was needed. He was not wrong. It took less than a full rotation of Jotunheim to receive word of the raid’s success.

      They had attacked Vanir. After the war between the Asier and the Vanir, Odin had kept a careful eye upon the land. Stationed there were hundreds of Odin’s warriors. One fortress stood upon the edge of Vanir, housing three hundred men. Laufey’s giants moved swiftly and wrought destruction. They did not use fire, only ice. Asgard’s warriors fell, their fortress frozen and shattered. It was a clear mark of Jotunheim might.

       In the wreckage lay a note, left pinned to the body of the commanding captain. It was nothing but a simple, handwritten note. Laufey felt sure that the simple message upon it would only be understood by three in all of Asgard.

        It read: _A prince for a prince. Return the temple’s child, Odin._

     

  


   

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much belated update. Odin's council responds to Laufey's threat, and Loki ponders his next move.

 

 _This,_ Loki thought as he clenched his fists tightly together. _This was never what I wanted._

Odin’s council sat silently around the round table. Rare was the moment that they all fell silent. No, the lords were far too full of their own pride and selfishness to hold their tongues for long. Loki would be amused if he were not terrified. _Isn’t that ironic?_ He thought, feeling his hands tremble beneath the table. _I am terrified now._

**_Of war or of Odin?_ ** The treacherous thoughts asked. They wormed their way out of the shadows of his mind, creeping ever closer to the surface of his swirling thoughts. The angry, frigid voices had plagued him since childhood. Loki had never known them to be so aggressive in asserting themselves. He wondered if the stress of his dreams and their consequences had given the voices so much leeway.

        _Of both, perhaps._

It was an honest answer. Perhaps too honest an answer, but who could Loki be honest with if not himself? Thor was gone, and if he were here, Loki would never confide in him. His heart twisted up at the thought of it. He could not trust Thor with trivial secrets, much less _this._ Then, as if they truly wanted Loki to fell dead from fear, the voices brought up an ancient memory of his. The image of Thor, Odin, and himself standing before the Casket appeared. Odin smiled down upon them. Loki remembered how proud he felt in that moment, how he felt as if he could truly earn Odin’s favor and love. _Both of you were born to be kings,_ Odin had said. _But only one will rule._

But before those treacherous lies were said, there had been more. Words that had slipped so easily from Thor’s mouth. Poisonous, fearful things that left Loki breathless.

         _When I am King, I’ll kill all the monsters! Every last one!_

**_Every last one, little prince…_ **

**** Thor would kill his own brother - _no,_ Loki reminded himself. Thor would kill the monster disguised as his brother if he knew. He allowed himself to glance over at the Warrior Three and Sif. They stood behind Odin, off the side. Although they glowered, they had not said a word since they had arrived. Despite Thor’s favoritism, they were not on the council. He supposed to these old warriors and nobles they were nothing but idiotic children. Loki was half their age and he found them to be so. _They_ would certainly kill Loki if such a thing was allowed. Was it not what they had been trying to do since his birth? _Push him down, pull his hair, bruise his arms, make his legs bleed. Bully, taunt, mock._ Loki remembered all these things. These things they had done in laughter, things that Thor had condoned and encouraged.

If Odin chose to reveal Loki’s status as Jotun, they would slaughter him in glee.

     There laid the danger. Loki took a deep breath. Finally, finally, he allowed himself to look back at the paper lying upon the table before them. It was not a large piece of paper. It was small, torn, and crumbled. From where Loki sat at Odin’s side, he could see the faint swirling pattern on it. It looked like frost on a pane of glass. The idea made his stomach lurch. Now was not the time to be thinking of ice and stone, nor the time for thoughts of blue skin and strong arms. Loki shivered, resisting the urge to run his fingers across his lips.

      _What are the use of soulmates if it is the cause of one half’s death?_

“What does it mean?” Sir Halgren finally asked. His quiet words broke the silence hanging over them. His words startled Loki, leaving his fingers curled into fists so tight they hurt. He did not dare look at Odin. What would he find upon his adopted father’s face if he did? Would he see disgust? Anger? Or worst of all, would he find indifference? Loki sucked in a sharp breath and lowered his gaze to his whitened hands.

      “It makes no sense,” another nobleman said, his voice raised as if in wrath. “The damned Jotuns slaughtered over three hundred Asgardian soldiers without provocation and they leave us nothing but riddles?!”

      Odin sighed. Loki heard the creak of his chair as the Allfather leaned forward. Loki braced himself for the inevitable. Odin had no reason to keep him now. He would be thrown to wolves, left to rot in jail or torn to pieces by those he had once called friend. _For who would return the spoils of war to Jotun?_ Loki with with a bitter vengeance. _The Allfather would rather let Thor die than return the Casket to them, what am I but another Casket? A useless trinket locked up within his house?_

       “War has been on its way since the moment Asgardian troops left Jotunheim standing,” Odin said. “We always knew the might of the Frost Giants would return and when it did, that Laufey would strike out against us once more.”

      Not a muscle twitched upon the Prince’s face. Instead, he remained as still as death. He had learned that when one wanted to be ignored, stillness was the best means of getting it. Asgardians looked for movement, they could not help themselves, their eyes constantly searched for prey. Prey _moved._ Prey fled, hide, and cried. Loki was prey, but he was smarter than them. He would remain still and silent. Still, his unflinching eyes hide a storm of fear and uncertainty. Loki did not want war. He wanted Thor back in the halls of the Allfather, he wanted Frigga to stop her tears, he wanted to once more talk to Laufey without their doom hanging above their heads, and most of all Loki wished to banish the almost crippling fear that had taken root in his mind.

         _Laufey...once you promised me your love. Can your love save me from Odin?_

**_It can’t…._ **

        Odin continued. “The Norn themselves have proclaimed that war would come. It was only a matter of time.”

         _How tired you sound Father. How worried and angry your voice is. Are you regretting saving my life? Now that I am the catalyst for this war, do you regret ever looking upon my face?_

“It is not riddle,” Odin said firmly. “Not to those for whom the message was meant for.”

         _And here it comes!_ Loki told himself, unable to stop his fingernails from digging into the flesh of his hand.

        “Then what does it mean?” Halgren demanded.

         _I will die today._

_I will die like the fallen Valkyrie, alone and frightened._

To his own surprise, Loki found almost no fear in the thought. Instead, he found a sort of relief. To die would be the easiest thing for him to do. To _live_ would require so much more of him.

        To everyone’s surprise, Odin chose to let Loki live with a flick of his wrist and a growl.

        “It means nothing,” he declared. Loki’s head jerked upright. Eyes wide, he stared at the man he used to call Father. Odin’s eye gazed straight ahead, refusing to glance upon Loki.

          “It is nothing but a reference to a wound I left upon Laufey long ago. It is a meaningless attempt to cause me to act upon emotion instead of reason. It has failed and Laufey has succeeded at nothing.”

       Odin stood, signalling the end of the meeting. His words left Loki feeling hollow, as if the King had reached inside of him and ripped out part of his soul. The council had enough sense to not whisper amongst themselves. Yet all Loki had to do was look upon the confusion upon their faces to see what they were thinking. They wondered what the wound had been, what the tale behind the cryptic note was. Odin would not give it to them. They would be foolish indeed to ask. Thor would ask, Loki mused. Thor had no fear and was very foolish. He’d have asked in a heartbeat.

          _And he’d have been cowed before the wrath of the Odin Father._

“We shall defend Asgard,” Odin said in an even tone. His one eye glimmered with an emotion that not even Loki could discern. “But we will not become the aggressors in this fight, not yet. Not until I have met with the Norn.”

        “Fa-” Loki began, eyes wide in bewildered.

        “Enough Loki,” Odin said. “It has been decided.”

        Loki's surprise twisted into some form of rage and annoyance. 

         He had never been fantastic at following Odin's decisions. 

         _You fool!_ he thought.  _You could have your favored son back, your true-born son and you hesitate? What games do you play?_

        

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

       “You know,” Frigga asked in defeat. “You know don’t you?”

       Loki stood at the edge of her vast rooms, peering over the edge of the window and out onto the city. He saw flames flickering in the streets below. Normally at this time of night most would be out. The Aesir would be fast asleep in their beds, but not tonight. Tonight all were awake. The people gathered in their homes and on the streets, watching and waiting for a sign of hope. _Will Prince Thor return?_ They asked. _Will he die? Is war on the way? Who will protect us now?_

All valid questions. Perhaps if Loki were born a normal Asgardian, he would be down there asking them as well. Perhaps he would be the one standing in the streets, crying out for Odin King to relieve his fears. In another life perhaps. Loki glanced down at his hands. _Perhaps in another life I would have grown by Laufey’s side. I would have married him and ruled by his side._

But that was not Loki’s life.  His life, this life, had seen him grow within the golden halls of Asgard. With a sigh, he turned to his mother. She sat on the edge of her seat, her tired eyes watching him. She looked old now. Not that Loki would ever tell her that. He might be cruel and sometimes uncaring, but he would not be cruel to Frigga. 

      It was why he turned to her with a smile instead of a sneer.

      “Yes,” he replied, no hint of anger or bitterness in his tone, only tiredness. He knew he need not explain _what_ he knew. They had looked into each other’s eyes and seen what no one else could find. The Truth. “And it’s alright….mother.”

      She flinched at the word. Loki bit his lip and turned his back on her. He had not meant it as an insult, but it had been taken as one. Why shouldn't it? What woman wanted a Jotun monster to call her mother?

      “No! Loki-I did not mean-,” Frigga called out to him. She stumbled over her words, unusual for the Queen. Frigga was strong and sure, it unsettled Loki to have the power to cause her to pause. “It-I do not know who told you or how you came to know...I only know that Odin did not tell you. He swore he would never tell you.”

      The lights below grew brighter as the night grew darker. Loki gazed upon them, half-heartedly wishing to be among them instead of where he stood now. **_Or better yet,_ ** the treacherous voice whispered. **_To be at Laufey’s side._ **

**** _Shut up._

**_Don’t deny what you know is true, JOTUN. You’ve fallen in love with the Frost Giant King._ **

**** _I haven’t fallen in love with anyone, least of all a monster._

**_You’re a monster too. Maybe you deserve each other._ **

**** “Loki?” Frigga prodded, jerking him from his thoughts. “I am sorry, truly sorry. I-I cannot defend myself or my actions. I cannot defend my husband’s actions, I feel as if we should have told you years ago but….” she shook her head, her hands rubbing against her skirt. “I did not know how and I thought by keeping it from you, we could protect you and ourselves.”

       “It is fine,” Loki said, forcing a small smile for her. “I am fine.”

       “Odin….” Frigga stopped, as if what she was about to say next would break her. Loki watched in interest. What more could there be say? What was left to break?

         Frigga regained her composure. Loki saw the troubled look in her eyes vanish behind a wall. It was something he was used to seeing in himself, not others. Somehow that disturbed him more than he would have thought. As Loki reassured Frigga all was well, he could not help but think of Laufey. Would Laufey have anything more to confess to him? Loki knew that things had changed between the two of them. Loki was a stolen Prince of Asgard and Laufey was King of their sworn enemy. Under Laufey’s command, the Jotun had struck at an Asgardian outpost, leaving a declaration of war. Thor, Loki’s brother, was chained in Laufey’s dungeon. Thor had put himself there, but it left Asgard vulnerable to attack.

       Jotunheim, Asgard.

       Laufey King, Odin King.

       Soulmate, family.

        _Why must the two be at such odds with each other?_ Loki thought. And then, in the deepest, darkest part of his mind, came a thought. It barely had any form yet, a mere tangle of words slowly coming together. Loki seized it, rushing forward to claim it before it vanished. He smiled, a gleam appearing in his eye. _This_ was where Loki excelled. Thor might be a warrior, but no one could scheme better than Loki.

       Loki bade Frigga good-night and began the walk back to his own room with purpose. Loki was not a man of a power, but he did have some. He intended to use what little he had left that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, 2 years later and I have finally opened up my archive account once more. I took some time off from fiction writing to attend university and deal with some pressing mental health issues. I intend to finish this fic off as quickly as possible, as while as going back and editing my horrible writing of 2 years ago. To those who commented their love for this fic, thank you so much. I am so glad you loved it enough to comment and ask for more and I hope the ending is worth the wait. <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki goes to the Norn while Laufey rallies his council.

__ On this night, Loki dreamed in red. He could not bear the weight of his own dreams, of dreaming of blue lips pressed against his or of Thor striking him down. He slipped into others’ dreams. Their dreams were red, red, red. Crimson painted the universe’s collective mind. The dwarves dreamed of fire and of the burning of their homes. The elves dreamed of blood dripping across their fields, of being cut down by Asgardians and giants alike. The Asgardians dreamt of glory, of the red of the sun. It glinted down upon them, even as their wrath and their fear turned into a red that swallowed them all whole. The Jotuns Loki avoided, always fearful of drawing Laufey back to him. 

Or perhaps, if he was being honest, tempting him to Laufey. 

**_You do love him don’t you?_ **

Loki wondered if the Frost Giants dreamt in shades of red or in blue. Do they bleed red like the other races? Do they dream of red-stained wrath or are they dreaming of blue blood falling upon snow? Of ice swallowing the world? 

Loki continued dreaming. 

Frustrated by his lack of progress, he returned to himself. Once more, he stood in the darkness of his own mind. Hurriedly, he brushed aside his dreams and set forth again to find the mind he was searching for that night. Loki might be the greatest dream-walker he knew of, but even he did not know if he was strong enough for this. 

He wandered, aimlessly and fearfully for what seemed like days. The darkness was never ending and all dreams he found were not what he searched for. 

“Loki…..”

The breathless murmur twisted in the shadows, calling him forth. Loki shuddered. He should have known they would find him first. 

“Loki...”

“Loki...”

“Loki...”

             They spoke as one, but with three voices. Each was low and hissing, as if they were snakes. Loki knew better. The Norn had no forms, none that any knew of. They wore the disguise of three aging women when it suited them, but they themselves were creatures of nothing. Here before Odin, before the world, before the stars, the Norn would remain after. 

_ Creatures of the past, present, and future.  _

“I came,” Loki paused, his fingers digging into his palms. He stumbled forward in the dark, following the Norn’s murmerings. “I came for guidance.”

“Guidance?” a Norn laughed as she appeared before him. Loki took a step back, his dark eyes fixated on her. She had the garb of a wanderer, grey rags clinging to her boney form. Her face was aged almost beyond recognition, eyes hidden by the shadows of her hood. Gnarled hands held a walking stick made of stone. The Norn looked human, but Loki knew better. 

“Yes,” he whispered, his mouth feeling dry. 

“You don’t seek out guidance,” another Norn hissed as she appeared from the mist. “You seek answers and then will make your own path.”

Loki wondered which dream he was in, or if they hadn’t bothered drawing him into a dream at all. He glanced around, suddenly feeling very lost and disconnected from even his own body. Loki had wandered far from himself, but he had always known how to go back to his own mind. He swallowed hard, nails dragging against his skin hard enough to draw blood. Loki let out a shaky breath. 

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said. “Odin says war is coming, but it doesn’t have to.  He doesn’t have to go to war. He doesn’t want to.”

Loki’s voice rose, a little sharper in pitch with every word. He felt breathless and scared, like a child. 

“Why would he provoke them for a monster he stole away?”

“A monster?” the Norn to his right cackled. She hissed, her teeth briefly revealed as sharp and pointed. He blinked and they were gone. “You think yourself a monster?”

“It’s true though,” the Norn to his left said. She raised a single finger and jerked it in his direction. “He is a monster!  _ The  _ monster, the one who brings about the end!”

“The end?” Loki asked, eyes wide. ‘What end?”

“None of your business,” the Norn ahead of him said. She shook her head, muttering to herself in a language he could not fathom. 

“Perhaps it would aid him,” one suggested. 

“No, no, no,” another hissed. Their voices began twisting in the air, voices moving from mouth to mouth until Loki had no idea who was speaking when. 

“It could be interesting-”

“Dangerous!”

“Loki is always dangerous, we foretold this before his ancestors were formed. Even Odin with his one eye could see this!”

“Snakes! We see the snake as it coils above him!”

“The ground shakes and Sigyn draws near.”

“Gods falling, Asgard in ruins. Even the rotting Queen we see!”

“Stop it!” Loki cried, his hands outstretched as if he were begging. “Enough of this. Why am I dangerous? What are these visions? Is this the reason why Odin will not exchange me for Thor?”

The Norn to his right laughed, it sounded like a child. 

“This one knows what to say,” she said. “Prince of Asgard, Queen of Jotun. You are dangerous because you are different. You are neither Jotun nor Asgardian, and you will be the doom of both. The doom of all.”

Loki’s lungs seemed to freeze over. They contracted and refused to work, the coldness seeping into his veins until he felt as if he were stone. The silence hung over the group and it was this moment where Loki realized none of the Norn were breathing. 

“What?” he cried, voice cracking. “What doom?”

“Doom!” the Norn in the center laughed. “But you are foolish, for we have connected your soul to another and you worry about trivial things like the end of the world. Soulmates are a gift Loki, our gift and we shall not be ignored.”

He gaped, a flush settling across his cheeks. He raised his hands as if to plead with them. 

“I do not mean to offend,” he said carefully. “But the issue of my-  _ soulmate  _ is a delicate one, one I am still-”

“Ragnarok creeps closer,” the Norn hissed as one as they cut him off. “The end of all the worlds has been foretold to arrive with you. Odin knows this, he keeps you close because of it. He thinks by doing so he will prevent it, but he is wrong. Nothing shall stop this, not even the mighty kings Odin and Laufey, their wise and cunning Queens Frigga and Loki. ”

Loki’s mind raced, unable to decide to be pleased with this belief he would wed Laufey or be outraged by their assumptions, he elected to ignore it and push forward. 

“What do I do?” he asked. “How do I stop this?”

“The future cannot be changed by man or beast! Only a fool can try,” the Norn snarled, withdrawing into the shadows. 

“I can try!” he screamed into the nothingness. He balled up his fists, eyes flaring. “I will try!”

“You can try, but nothing will change,” they spoke as one. “War can be avoided, but not stopped. War is coming for you Loki and it shall consume everything this world holds.”

“Even you?” Loki asked. 

“Never us,” the Norn replied. “We are not of this world nor we will ever be. We have seen the cycle many times, this time it will be no different.”

Loki could never say how he knew the Norn had gone, only that they had. It was as if a veil had been lifted from him. He shivered in the darkness. Moving slowly, he carefully made his way back towards his own mind. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Laufey stands before his council. His sharp gaze drags across, probing for weakness and strength. So many of them are warriors, their bodies lined with scars and armour. Their limbs are large and hands looking to wreck ruin upon their foes. 

_ Laufey’s foes, for he is King and his enemies are theirs.  _

Some are not. They are politicians, cunning giants with wary eyes and poisoned tongues. Laufey acknowledges their strength lies not on a battlefield, but in chambers such as this. At some point, he needed men like them, men who could twist anything in his favor. 

_ Always the King’s favor, for on Jotunheim nothing matters except his favor.  _

However, Laufey-King knew the time for words had long since passed. He stood up, his armour clinking quietly in the stillness. His council stared at him, unsure of what he was to say. Behind them, clustered by the stone pillars were the priests. Their leader looked on approvingly, nodding as if he had seen Laufey’s actions already. Perhaps he had, Laufey acknowledge. Priests were strange creatures and who knows what the gods had revealed to them?

“Years ago,” Laufey said in an almost hushed voice. “The other half of my soul was ripped from the Temple of our gods, stolen away like a relic of gold, stolen by the coward Odin. This action was a declaration of war. It was an attack on Jotun’s gods, Jotun’s King, Jotun’s future Queen, and every Jotun walking this earth. How will we respond to such an action?”

He walked forward, his red eyes glowing in the darkness. His men sneered, hands caressing their weapons. Laufey’s own mouth curved into a vicious smile. His mate awaited him within the halls of Asgard. He would come to claim him, stealing him away as Odin had. Laufey would carry his mate from the center of a burned, blood-stained Asgard. 

“Jotunheim is not weak,” he snarled. “It is strong, strong enough to cast down gods. This night, we will bring war to Asgard.”

His men roared, their voices filling the chamber. 

_ I am coming Loki,  _ Laufey thought.  _ I am coming. I shall not fail this time.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for reading my story ;) I'm just starting this off as a small one shot to appease my Loki/Laufey feelings and to test the waters for my first fanfiction. If anyone takes an interest in this couple, I might expand it into more chapters.


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